


Lavellan's Letters

by kscho



Series: Lavellan's Sandwich of Letters and Filler [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, JK I LOVE YALL, Lavellan sister, Letters, MY INQUISITOR HAS A MABARI, SHE BACK, SHE GOT THE CURE, YO THE RETURN OF ROSE, fuck you bioware, i spent like a week handwriting this, let's fucking do this, over a week really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-02 03:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16778707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscho/pseuds/kscho
Summary: Long story short, bought a new, ordinary notebook specifically for fics. Ended up writing nonstop about my favorite Inquisitor, Suri Lavellan.  Revolves mostly around Cullen's romance scenes cause I thirst for that man. #noshameHere's the suited up result.Enjoy! :)





	1. The Inquisitor's Mabari

_ Commander, _

_ Well, nothing has changed in the Hinterlands since the last time I was here. Or the last twelve times. Dorian and I made bets about how long before Varric complained about being outdoors. Don’t tell Dorian, but I promised Varric I’d give him half the winnings if he kept his mouth shut. Dorian should have more faith in his trusty dwarven friend and less in me because I’m the sneaky mischievous one when Sera isn’t with us. _

_ The claims of blood mages has yet to hold truth. There is unrest here, however, and we’re working our best to restore faith. Cassandra grumbled something about “fetch and carry,” but I brushed it off. As much as I love the mountains, it’s nice to be down here in the lowlands for a little bit. Seeing trees instead of snow is a welcome relief. _

_ If something else more pressing than a social call arises, I’ll make sure to write you immediately. I apologize if you’re reading this with the hopes of something important. I simply wanted to steal a few moments to myself and talk to somebody other than my current companions. I expect our work here to be done within the week. We’ll be back to Skyhold soon after that. _

_ Please remember to venture outside of your tower every once in a while. You work yourself too hard, Cullen, and I’d hate to return home to a grumpy commander at the war table. Take care. I’ll see you soon. _

_ Suri _

\---

_ Inquisitor, _

~~_ I’m glad to hear that _ ~~ _ It is good to hear that things are going well in the Hinterlands.  _ _ f ~~or you.~~ _ _ I still wish you would have waited to hear back from the scouts before heading out, however. If there is no evidence of blood magic, then the rip could be a waste of  _ ~~_your_ ~~ _~~our~~ _ _ the Inquisition’s resources.  _

_ Your apology is appreciate, but unnecessary. It is always  _ ~~_ a pleasure _ ~~ _ good to hear from you. Knowing that our Inquisitor is safe puts all of us here at peace. _

_I’ll make an effort to follow your advice. I appreciate your care and concern. Please grant me the same courtesy and stay safe out there._ ~~ _I am_~~ _I ~~hope~~_ _There is no Inquisition without her Inquisitor._ _I_ _We look forward to your return._

~~_ Cullen _ ~~ _ Commander Cullen _

\---

Suri scratched the mabari behind his ears, smiling when he leaned into her touch. Her ribs still throbbed horribly, but the warm laps of the hound’s tongue on her fingers put her at ease. Dorian had rambled on relentlessly about how it was “insulting” and “an utter waste” to keep the dog with them, but Suri had apparently made an impression on the poor animal. He wouldn’t leave her side and whined whenever she winced or shifted in pain.

“Inquisitor?” Cassandra’s voice came from outside her tent. “Are you alright? Can I come in?”

The mabari growled, but Suri rested her hand on his back, quieting him. “Go ahead, Cass,” she said, sighing and trying not to think about how hot she was. 

Cassandra pushed back the tent flaps and stepped in. She carried a bowl of what smelled like broth, but the thought of being even warmer made Suri turn her head away, scoffing. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m okay, thanks to this little one,” Suri muttered, stroking the mabari’s fur.

“Forgive me, Inquisitor, but there’s nothing ‘little’ about him.” she sat down beside Suri. “If I didn’t know Ferelden culture better, I’d say he’s imprinted on you.”

“Imprinted?” Suri echoed. “I don’t know any good names for a mabari.”

“Perhaps you can ask Commander Cullen when we return.”

Remembering, Suri tried to sit up, stopped by the stabbing pain in her right side. “Cass, I need your help.”

“Only if you promise that you won’t try and sit up again anytime soon. What do you need?”

\---

_ Commander, _

_ We’ve encountered a slight delay in the Hinterlands and must take a couple of days to resolve the issue. Unfortunately, I am unable to write this letter myself and Cassandra has been gracious enough to help me. I’ll explain everything at Skyhold and in my official report. _

_ You’d better be following my advice, otherwise I’ll be checking in with Leliana and Josephine on your whereabouts. _

_ Take care, Cullen. _

_ Suri _

\---

Cullen squinted at her signature. Cassandra was helping her write her letters? He knew Lavellan was eloquent enough in the common tongue, so it couldn’t be issues with translation. Besides, Cassandra, as he well knew, wasn’t exactly a wordsmith herself. That title belonged to Varric, also with the Inquisitor, and he hadn’t been the one to write the letter. An injury, then. Lavellan was obviously hesitant to tell him. Her letters often strayed from business, but this one was the shortest he had ever received.

Realizing he was glowering at the words, Cullen dragged a hand down his face and sighed. She’d threatened to check in with her other two advisors if he remained a shut-in. He could hear the hushed giggles in the war room already. The mere thought brought a slight blush to his cheeks. He cleared his throat and picked up a report from Captain Rylen.

There was a knock at the door. “Enter,” he said, hardly even glancing up. A messenger nearly stumbled across the threshold. “Ambassador Montilyet’s report for you, Commander.” A gust of wind blew in the room, sending several papers fluttering to the ground. “A-apologies, Commander!” the messenger stuttered.

“It’s fine,” Cullen said, trying to keep his voice even as he groaned quietly. “Thank you. Dismissed.” The messenger quickly bowed and left, closing the door firmly behind him. Cullen rose and gathered up the stray papers on the floor. One of them was Lavellan’s letter. Cullen found himself squinting at it once again. There was a postscript he hadn’t noticed before.

_ P.S. What are some good names for a mabari? _


	2. Winter's Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why spoil it when you can read it? <3

Suri didn’t care for the horns that announced the return of their Inquisitor. It was a little over the top and unnecessary. She rolled her eyes to herself and admired how her new mabari barked up at the gates, laughing even when he raced through them, intent on sniffing every inch of Skyhold before the hour was up. She dismounted her hart, Appleseed, with a slight groan and passed the reins to Dennet with a few words of thanks. She snagged down a messenger to send Solas up to her quarters before the night was out. Suri made her way though Skyhold and up to her room. Creators bless the help already getting a hot bath ready for her. She thanked each of them in turn waited until they left to slouch.

Her mabari wandered about the room, sniffing everything he could, wagging his tail whenever he sniffed anything of hers. A blanket or a shirt. A stray sock even. Suri giggled and began to undress. She slipped into more comfortable clothes: a nearly threadbare shirt and torn shorts. Suri believed in owning clothes meant only for lazy comfort, no matter how fancy or not. She loved Josephine dearly, but she absolutely refused to wear the... _ underthings _ her ambassador had gotten for her. They rode up when she was trying to sleep, or covered nothing at all.

Suri pulled a chair beside the tub and sat down, sinking her feet into the hot water with a blissful sigh. She wished she could take an actual bath, but she wanted to wait for Solas to heal her up properly. Her mabari came up and sniffed the water, eventually snorting at the steam. She stroked his head and let her eyes fall closed, content with letting the minutes pass in silence.

\---

“Inquisitor? You sent for me?”

Suri sat up and stretched, yawning. “Solas!” she yawned. “Sorry, I, um...dozed off, I guess.” She stepped out of the bath and found a towel to dry off her legs. “You’re a better healer than me and I need your help.” Suri lifted up her shirt to reveal her injured right side.

Her mabari growled from his makeshift bed on her large armchair in the corner by the bookcase. Suri had a passing thought of how comical the large hound looked squished between the arms of the chair. Then she snapped her fingers and shot him a sharp look, silencing him.

“New pet?” Solas asked, eyeing the dog carefully.

“Sort of,” she replied, smirking. “Cass reckons he’s imprinted on me.”

“I see. In any case, your injuries should be no problem to heal.”

“You’re the best, Solas.”

\---

Cullen paced slowly up and down the yard, mostly satisfied with the state of the soldiers. He would occasionally adjust a stance here and there, but otherwise there were no problems for him to fix. In any case, he figured the soldiers were slightly more afraid of Cassandra stalking the other end rather than him. Even he would admit that his heart jumped occasionally whenever they sparred together.

Which reminded him…

“May I ask why you had to write the Inquisitor’s letter?” Cullen inquired after the Seeker.

Cassandra studied him carefully, glancing to the pair of soldiers she had been instructing moments before. “The Inquisitor was injured in the field,” she admitted. “She asked us not to tell anyone how or go into detail about her injury. But if you wish to ask her yourself, I am sure she will tell you.” The corners of her mouth threatened to lift. “She chose to write to  _ you _ after all, unless you forgot.”

Cullen blinked. Visit...the Inquisitor? In her personal quarters? Was she even in her quarters? Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and tried desperately to refocus on his troops. A headache started to grow in his head, though not one born of his withdrawals. It was one born of his own stubborn frustrations. In a way, it was worse. He knew how to handle and power past lyrium, but dealing with himself? Even without having heard it for years, he knew he was a stubborn arse. Once the yard drills were over, Cullen busied himself in his office with a the large stack of papers towering over his desk, forcing the Inquisitor from his mind, despite his reluctance to do so.

\---

_ To my nearest and dearest sister, _

Please _ tell me you finally plucked up the courage to make a move on Haleir. Even I’ll admit he’s cute. Don’t wait too long,  _ da’len, _ otherwise the Keeper will stop finding reasons to let you two hunt together. _

_ Things are going well with the Inquisition. I got hurt down in the Hinterlands. Some two-handed bastard caught me in the side with his longsword. Hurt like you wouldn’t believe. Dorian got me back together well enough, but he’s no Solas when it comes to healing magic. _

_ Speaking of Solas, he doesn’t make sense to me, little sister. An elven apostate obsessed with the past, who speaks perfect elvhen, yet he seems to abhor the Dalish. I don’t understand. He knows an awful lot about the Fade as well from his years of studying it. It’s interesting to find another elven mage, or any mage in that case, who knows more about such ancient magics than even our Keeper. _

_ But Solas is beside my point. My point is that I’m fine and that you shouldn’t worry over me for the present moment. I finally had a bath after about three weeks, ate a hot meal, and I feel great. _

_ Oh! I almost forgot to tell you something. I have a new companion. The man that almost separated my torso from my legs was killed by his own mabari. A young one, maybe two years old. He saved my life. Cassandra thinks he’s imprinted on me, the way he follows me around and listens to me so intently. I’m unsure of what to call him, though. I asked Commander Cullen, but we’ve yet to talk since my return to Skyhold. I’ll be sure to tell you his new name in my next letter _

_ Be safe, as always, little sister, otherwise I’ll write to the Keeper to “keep” an eye on you. I love you. _

_ Suri _

\---

Suri sat back in her chair, her letter finished. Her mabari looked up at the movement. “Would you like to go outside?” she asked him. He barked joyously and leapt from his newly claimed armchair. Suri dressed for the cold and followed her hound to the gardens. It was dark out already. Nighttime came early in the winter, but moreso in the mountains. It made Suri miss days in the summer when her and the Keeper would train all day and still see the sun by the time camp was winding down.

“Inquisitor?”

Suri froze for a moment, but she turned around after it had passed. Cullen stood at the end of the path, unarmored, but just as bundled up as she was. She cocked her head at him and smirked. “Late night, Commander?” she teased.

Cullen mirrored her smirk. “Early, I think,” he responded.

Suri’s mabari came bounding out of nowhere and slammed directly into Cullen, sending him crashing down to the frozen ground. “Creators!” Suri exclaimed, rushing to her commander’s side and immediately began examining him for injury. “I am  _ so _ sorry!”

“S’okay,” Cullen groaned, getting to his feet. Suri kept up her near frantic search for anything wrong. “Really, Inquisitor,” he insisted. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“I don’t think he’s trained very well,” Suri explained, casting her gaze away from Cullen’s slightly windburned cheeks and to her happy mabari, wagging tail and all. “Did you think of any?”

“Pardon?”

Suri grinned. “Names. For him.” As if on cue, the hound gave a happy bark, perking his ears up.

“Oh! I, uh…” Cullen was red. Properly flushed, and not just from the cold.

_ I make him uncomfortable,  _ Suri thought, her face falling. Her chest felt as if it were in a vice, gentle pressure being added as it tried to beat faster and as every second of silence passed between them. “If I’m...Creators, I mean if you’d rather be alone out here, I’ll just-” Suri snapped her mouth shut and spun on her heels. Her ears were flaming hot, nearing discomfort.

“Maker, no!” Cullen said quickly, catching her arm. “You’re not--Maker’s breath…” He tugged on her wrist once, enough to get her to turn around. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. “Inquisitor, stay. Please.”

“Okay,” she breathed. His hand was still on her arm. She swore she could feel the warmth of his fingers through his gloves and her sleeves. And she loved it. “Only if you call me Suri. So...names?”

“No ideas from Thedas’ Inquisitor?” Cullen teased. He glanced at his hand and quickly removed it.

“You’re our resident Fereldan, Commander,” she countered. “Besides, I hardly know anything about mabari apart from the Dalish story about them.”

Cullen seemed intrigued. “Dalish story?” He glanced at the mabari, happily rolling around on his back in the snow. “I wasn’t aware there was one.”

She smiled. “Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes, but let’s go back to my office, where it’ll be warmer than this. And only if you call me Cullen.”

\---

Cullen’s office was only  _ slightly _ warmer than outside, as it turned out. Suri could feel cold air waterfalling from his loft, then she spotted the hole in the corner of his roof. Unfazed, she looked around for another chair, but found none.  _ Of course _ , she thought,  _ his soldiers stand at attention in here. _

Cullen seemed to notice the lack of furniture as well once he finished starting a fire. “Oh, I, um…”

Suri shrugged and hopped up on the cleared half of his desk, sitting cross-legged. Cullen stood petrified for a moment before clearing his throat and sitting down in his chair. Suri’s mabari yawned and laid down on the rug in front of the fireplace.

“This is how my Keeper told it to me.”

\---

_ “Take the Dread Wolf by the ear if he comes.” _

_ Long ago, a Dalish clan lived on the Silent Plains. It was a terrible, lonely place where the sun was forbidden to shine. Their Keeper had a coursing hound and they had run down all sorts of game together when they were young. _

_ But they had grown old together, Keeper and hound, and now only dozed off by the campfire, dreaming of those hunts. _

_ But then the Dread Wolf came, for the Keeper was wise and kind, things Fen’Harel hated above all else. At night, he tried to steal into the Keeper’s dreams and twist his mind and turn him against his own people. But even in dreams, the courser guarded his master. He caught the Dread Wolf’s scent and gave chase across the Fade. _

_ Fen’Harel tried to shake his pursuer, but the hound ran as coursers only could in their dreams. Even the fastest wind couldn’t have fled that hound. He ran the Dread Wolf down and grabbed him by the tail. Fen’Harel howled so loud that the Veil shook and even the stars scattered in fear, but the hound wouldn’t let go. _

_ Neither hound nor wolf gave in. Finally, Fen’Harel bit off his own tail to escape and away he fled. Ever since, the Dead Wolf thinks twice about playing his tricks when the dogs are on guard. _

\---

“You tell that story like it’s the air you breathe,” Cullen noted. He was smiling fondly, Suri noticed.

“It’s a Keeper’s place to remember,” she said. “I’m a First. Or...I was? It was expected of me to practically spout these stories in my sleep.” Her mabari whined quietly. “Again?” He yipped. “Okay!” She slipped off Cullen’s desk and let the hound out, watching him scamper down the stairs in search for a suitable place to relieve himself.

“Oh,” Cullen said, following her out the door. “It’s snowing.”

It was. Gently. Quietly. The wind had stopped, silencing what seemed like the entire world. Flakes fell from the clouds like promises that lovers only made. Suri reached out her hand and caught a few, watching them melt on her warm fingers. She smiled and looked up. Although late, Skyhold was still very much alive on the inside. Nobody was out and about, but lights were on in almost every window. 

“Not even magic can make it this pretty,” Suri said aloud. “Some of the snowball fights we used to have in the clan were nothing short of violent and legendary.” Her face fell at a sudden, passing thought, one that had made itself known before. “Cullen?”

“Suri.”

“Do you..?” Suri struggled to find the right words. “I don’t know… Are you ever uncomfortable around me? Because I’m a First? A mage? Or...an elf?” She looked down and away, not sure she could bear to look at him. Worse, if he said yes to any of the options.

“I…” She heard Cullen take a deep breath. Suri held her own. “No.” She let her breath go, trembling just a little. Her heart was doing absurd little flip flops in her chest. Her cheeks and ears felt like a dragon was breathing down on them.

She didn’t know what do do, really.

“Perhaps once. Seeing you barge through Haven during the siege was certainly terrifying. But...no, you being a mage doesn’t change how I feel about you. And, Maker’s breath, you being an elf doesn’t mean anything to me. Anything bad!” he quickly added. “Andraste preserve me…”

Suri looked up, eyes wide and curious, taking in every inch of his mottled face. “And...how  _ do _ you feel about me, Cullen?” Her voice was so quiet she wasn’t sure he had heard her. “Because I...care for you. A lot.” Suri would have bet money that her heart would beat out of her chest, break her ribs, or do her some other sort of bodily harm. It was beating  _ so _ fast. She had  _ never _ admitted her feelings for anyone. Creators, she had never  _ had _ any feelings to confess to someone. Being a First didn’t leave much room for such “frivolities” as her Keeper had described it. Suri squeezed her eyes shut.

“You care for me.”

Before her heart could beat once more, Cullen’s hands had come to cradle her face and his lips were pressed insistently against hers. She froze.  _ Love and light, he’s kissing me! _ Suri gathered what wits she had left and let her hands grasp at his cloak, responding to his touch.

The snowflakes continued to fall around them, more with each passing second. No guards would witness their kiss, all of them too busy grumbling about the cold or warming themselves at the Herald’s Rest. Suri didn’t care. Her chest was flush against Cullen’s. They gasped for breath between kisses. It was as if his lips were made to kiss hers, it felt so right. Suri’s hands drifted through his hair and she let her mind go blank. She almost pulled away in surprise when she felt his tongue drag along her bottom lip. She gladly parted them and granted him what he wanted.

She never wanted the moment to end.

\---

_ To my least favorite, yet only sister, _

_ What in the name of Mythal did you step into to get hurt in such a way?! You’re smarter than that! (Perhaps not, but you’d probably admit that anyway) Thank the Creators you’re okay. Nothing could ever keep you down for long. _

_ As for your bothersome insistence on my non-existence relationship status, I  _ have _ made progress. We talked for what seemed like hours near the halla one night. We talked about hunting, the clan, and about a dozen different subjects, some I refuse to admit to my older sister. _

_ Your elven apostate companion is intriguing. I’d ask the Keeper about him if you want me to. I don’t know what she’ll know or not know, but I’ve learned not to underestimate her. Ever. _

_ CREATORS, SURI, YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I WANT A TRUE FERELDEN MABARI! AND NOW YOU’VE GONE AND GOT ONE! THAT’S NOT FAIR! YOU’RE LETTING ME VISIT HIM THE SECOND I GET THE CHANCE, NO ARGUMENTS! _

_ All my love, sister. _

_ Sun _

\---

_ Sunny, _

_ I kissed my Commander. _

_ Suri _


	3. Atlas' Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Cullen :,(

_Inquisitor Suri Lavellan,_

_I’ll have you know that the entire fucking clan thought I was being attacked. I screamed so fucking loudly. So fuck you. Second of all:_

_WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU KISSED YOUR COMMANDER? COMMANDER CULLEN, YOUR “RESIDENT FERELDAN HUMAN” HUMAN? THAT COMMANDER?_

_How did it happen? Were you two alone? Is he really that handsome? Does it bother you that he’s human? Was it romantic? Is he a good kisser? Creators, I’m screaming again. Dear sister, please tell me everything. I refuse to talk of anything else until you do._

_Sunny_

_P.S. Did you ever decide on a name?_

\---

“SHIT!” Suri yelled, throwing her head back in anguish as Rylen laughed at her. “ _How_ are you so good at this?”

“Faster reflexes, Inquisitor,” he rumbled in his smooth Starkhaven brogue. He smirked at her and swept up the cards, shuffling them with that fucking smirk. Suri liked Rylen. He had an infinite amount of charm and swagger but knew when and when not to use them, and both in turn as well. His hair was always mussed up and messy, no matter what time of day or what day of the week. The first time they had ever spoken, they had had a battle of wits and insults in their overly emphasized accents.

And then Rylen had brandished his lucky card deck as if it were one of those ancient elven relics Solas loved so much, and introduced the most violent card game Suri had ever witnessed and played:

Rat slap.

Suri hated how much she loved it.

“Ready to go again?” Rylen taunted her.

She smacked her hand on the table, a gesture that didn’t carry as much weight in the bustle of the cramped Herald’s Rest. “Fuck yes, Captain,” she spat at him, grinning wickedly.

“Seats taken?” Varric asked, him and Blackwall already pulling up chairs.

 _This is about to get a whole lot louder,_ Suri thought, the grin growing even more wicked.

It did. Soon, they were the rowdiest table in the whole tavern. Instead of shouting them annoyed glanced their way, their shenanigans only seemed to invigorate everyone else. The Chargers had rushed over to Maryden to teach her their song and soon they were shouting it loud enough to probably reach the ears of those in the lower camps in the valley.

“FUCK!” Suri screeched, her hand slapping on top of Blackwall’s. She spat out vulgar elvhen phrases in rapid succession. Although he didn’t understand her, Rylen laughed loudly. She smiled and blurt out one final phrase, finishing it with “Starkhaven bastard,” before throwing down the rest of her cards for Varric to shuffle.

“Do I even want to know what you’re saying, Red,” Varric chuckled, “or should I just use my imagination?”

“Ask Solas sometime when we’re out together,” she grumbled. “If he won’t, I’ll yell it louder in the common tongue.”

“Couldn’t be any worse than what the Commander was grumbling today,” Rylen noted.

“What?” Suri’s ears perked up, concerned. “What happened?”

“One of his days,” Rylen waved off. “He’ll be better-” But Suri was already on her feet, pulling her cloak along with her as she made her way to Cullen’s office. She was knocking for a solid minute before a runner noticed her.

“I believe Commander Cullen is talking with Seeker Pentaghast in the armory.”

Suri wasn’t sure why she was so worried, but her feet moved with haste nonetheless. She cared for Cullen, and she would offer any and all help she had to offer, and respect Cullen even more if he refused it for the right reasons. When she arrived at the armory, she noticed the smithy still alive, but simmering down. Harritt was probably done for the day. Cullen and Cassandra were talking in the light of the smithy. “Talking” was a nice term for their heated argument. The second Suri’s foot was past the threshold, she felt as if she was intruding.

“You asked for my opinion, and I’ve given it,” Cassandra growled, crossing her arms. “Why would you expect it to change?”

“I _expect_ you to keep your word,” Cullen snapped back. “It’s relentless. I can’t-”

“You give yourself too little credit!”

Cullen scowled and took a step towards the Seeker. “If I am unable to fulfill what vows I kept, then nothing good has come of this. Would you rather save face than admit-” He stopped dead when he noticed the Inquisitor in the open door. Suri froze as well, her heart hammering away in her chest. His face fell and he sighed. He began to leave, murmuring, “Forgive me,” as he passed her. She let him leave, unsure of what to say or do.

“And people say _I’m_ stubborn,” Cassandra huffed. “This is ridiculous.”

“Yes,” Suri answered carefully, “but I know he trusts your judgement on the matter.”

Cassandra sighed. “He was not interested in my judgement today. Cullen has asked that I recommend a replacement for him.” She shook her head. “I refused. It’s not necessary. Besides, it would destroy him. He’s come so far.”

“Why didn’t he come to me?” Suri wondered aloud, staring at the closed door.

“We had an agreement long before you joined us. As a Seeker, I could evaluate the dangers.” She paused. “And he wouldn’t want to...risk your disappointment.”

“Is there anything we can do to change his mind?”

Cassandra thought for a moment. “If anyone could, it’s you. Mages have made their suffering known, but templars cannot. They are bound to the Order, mind and soul, with someone always holding their lyrium leash. Cullen has a chance to break that leash, to prove to himself--and anyone who would follow suit--that it’s possible.” She squared her jaw before speaking again. “He _can_ do this. I knew that when we met in Kirkwall. Talk to him. Decide if now is the time.” She let out another sigh and nodded. “Good night, Inquisitor.”

Suri’s mouth was too dry to return the favor. The night’s previous clamor and glamor had evaporated in a matter of minutes. Cullen wanted a replacement? Suri had tried to hardest to see Cullen’s viewpoints at the war table several times. She trusted his judgement and way of thinking more often than not. And yet, she couldn’t see how he thought himself unfit for duty. A few minutes later, after she had collected herself, she was at his door. It was slightly ajar and the candlelight from within told her he was still awake. Before she could stop herself and knock, Suri was pushing the door open.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and her ears flew up as a small box was hurled her way. She yelped and held her arms up, catching it in a flash, hearing something break. She let out a strained breath and tried her best to keep her knees from shaking.

 _“Maker’s breath!_ I didn’t hear you enter! I-” Suri stood where she was, holding the little box about as long as her forearm. Cullen took a deep, shaky breath. “Forgive me,” he repeated.

Suri took a few steps forward. “Cullen, if you need to talk-”

He held out a hand. “You don’t have to-” He groaned as he tried to round his desk, leaning heavily against it.

Suri dropped the box and reached out to him, but her eyes were caught by a mix of bright red and even brighter blue. Something the box had cut her hand, and by the looks of it, it had been a glass vial of lyrium. _It’s his kit,_ she thought, examining the half dozen cuts in the heel and palm of her hand. Her blood was steadily dripping to the floor.

“ _Elgar’nan_!” she exclaimed quietly. She hovered her good hand over her injured on and channelled magic between them, healing her hand well enough to deal with the situation.

“I never meant for this to interfere,” Cullen lamented.

“Are you going to be alright?” she asked, keeping the distance he plainly wanted.

“Yes,” he answered quickly, automatically. He sighed, doubt stricken in his features. “I don’t know…” He stood up as straight as he could. “You asked what happened to Ferelden’s Circle. It was taken over by abominations. The templars--my friends--were slaughtered!” He turned to the skinny window behind his desk. “I was tortured. They tried to break my mind and I… How can you be the same person after that?”

“Still, I wanted to serve. They sent me to Kirkwall. I trusted my Knight-Commander, and for what, hmm? Her fear of blood mages ended in madness. Kirkwall’s Circle fell. Innocent people died in the streets. Can’t you see why I want nothing to do with that life?” Cullen was scowling at her.

“Of course I can, I-”

“Don’t!” he snapped. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You should be questioning what I’ve done.” He walked back over to his bookcase. “I thought this would be better--that I would regain some control over my life. But these thoughts won’t leave me…”

He began pacing. “How many lives depend on our success?” he shouted. “I _swore_ myself to this cause! I will _not_ give less to the Inquisition than I did the Chantry. I should be taking it!” He drove his fist against the bookcase, sending several books clattering to the ground. “I should be taking it,” he breathed.

“This doesn’t have to be about the Inquisition,” Suri declared, not unkindly. “Is this what _you_ want?”

Cullen looked up, pained determination set on his face. After a moment, he relaxed ever so slightly. His fist against the bookcase slackened. “No,” he admitted. Suri slowly approached him. She wanted him to see that she cared for him, even if she had already told him as much. “But...these memories have always haunted me. If they become worse...if I cannot endure this…”

Suri planted her hand on his chilled breastplate, right above his heart. She stared into his pained, golden eyes, praying to all the Creators he would _hear_ her.

“You can.”

\---

_Dear Sunny,_

_I suppose I’ll get all of your questions out of the way, first. Yes, that Commander Cullen. We sort of bumped into each other in the garden. Or, more accurately, Fern tackled him. That’s my mabari, by the way. We went back to his office so I could tell him the story about Fen’Harel losing his tail. It started to snow. We were outside, and everything just sort of fell into place. Yes, he really is that handsome, and even moreso up close. No, it doesn’t bother me that he’s human and I’ve confirmed that he thinks the same of me. Yes, very romantic and, damn, he_ is _a good kisser._

_Oh, Sunny. Today I saw him laid low. He’s a former templar from Kirkwall, Kinloch Hold before that. He’s stopped taking lyrium, sister. He wanted Cassandra to find a replacement for him today. I didn’t know what to do, Sunny. I can inspire people, sure, but they see me as the Inquisitor. Their blessed Herald of Andraste. Cullen knows me as Suri. the first time he saw me was when I tripped coming through the door of the war room in Haven. Smooth, I know. I hope I did alright._

_The Inquisition has business in Val Royeaux and I leave tomorrow morning with Dorian, Cole, and Vivienne. Cole doesn’t seem to like the city very much, but I need someone to listen without being seen. I promised him a favor in return, but I haven’t been able to think of what he would want in return._

_I miss you so much, little sister. The world is so big out here, bigger than any Keeper would ever dare admit. Please don’t tell ours I said that. I’d never hear the end of it. After all, as far as I know, I’m still a First. I have my reputation to protect. I’ll send you something from Val Royeaux that you’ll either love, or hate so much that you love it._

_Be safe, as always._

_Suri_


	4. Deep Breath, Commander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Suri see different layers of each other

Suri looked glumly at her finished reports. Luckily for her, the more frustrated she got, the more she wanted to drown in work. Whether it be magic or paper, any work would do. She had read all the missives, replied to all of her letters (save one), and even turned in her report from Val Royeaux. The trip had provided a good enough distraction, but the quiet brought up deeper thoughts. She worried for Cullen. They hadn’t spoken since their slight argument regarding his willpower. She prayed every night that he believed her when she told him that he _was_ strong enough.

The morning had been unkind to her. Her feet were freezing cold and she had forgotten to close the curtains the night before. The sun had woken her up far before Skyhold had, even if it hadn’t peeked over the mountains yet. She didn’t have the heart to warm herself up with mgic when her mind was already buzzing with questions and worry.

And thus, the surge of finished work. Fern glanced at her and yawned, resting his head back on her disheveled covers. She thought back something Varric had mentioned.

_“What was it that Hawke would always say about his old mongrel? ‘Smart enough to talk, but wise enough not to?’”_

“Fern,” Suri called quietly. He looked up. “If I let you outside the room, would you check in on the Commander for me? Pretty please? I’m getting a little too emotional over here.” He let out a boof and got up on his paws, shaking his whole body from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail. Suri smiled and followed him down the stairs, opening the door. She pecked a kiss between his ears as he trotted out.

Back upstairs, she plopped down on her chaise with a heavy sigh, pulling a letter from her pocket. She had read it twice already, but once more wouldn’t hurt.

\---

_Suri,_

_(What a cute name!)_

_Though you didn’t ask me to, I talked to the Keeper about your commander’s lyrium withdrawals. It wasn’t a nice explanation. She said he probably experiences headaches, shakes, general lapses in clarity of vision and memory. That was the least of what she said. The worst is harrowing, sister._

_The Keeper would only tell me bits and pieces of what happened at Kirkwall, and even less so of Kinloch HOld. Those names hold death and misery, even among the Dalish. The Keeper said it would not surprise her if Cullen had nightmares every night. And possible hallucinations during the day. Look after him, sister. He must feel very much alone in this world. I am glad to hear that he makes you happy. I’ll even forgive you for the whole “shem” part._

_For the record, I hate your gift, but I refuse to toss it in the river. Are you quite serious, sister? A carved wooden halla and aravel? PAINTED PINK?! Creators, you_ are _impossible._

_Love you, as always, dear sister._

_Sun_

\---

Suri tossed the letter aside. _Oh, Cullen_ … She could only guess what his early days of withdrawal were like. Her heart ached just to think about it. Cullen was a man made to shoulder the world, but that didn’t mean he had to do it alone. She prayed to the Creators he would allow her shoulder some of _his_ burdens. And...Creators...she hoped he was strong enough.

\---

_Sunny,_

_Thank you for telling me all of this. At least now I can understand Cullen a little better than before. I must admit that I am in no mood for a longer letter. Forgive me, little sister. There is another trip soon for the Emerald Graves. We’re going dragon hunting. They call it the Greater Mistral. The next time you write me, I will have felled a dragon._

_Luck, little sister._

_Suri_

\---

She found Cullen on the battlements. He was looking out across the mountains with the slow determination of a glacier. Suri stole a moment to admire his profile before she approached him.

“I wanted to thank you,” Cullen said, turning to face her. “When you come to see me…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “If there’s anything…” He sighed heavily. “This sounded _much_ better in my head.”

“I trust you’re feeling better?” she asked, tucking her hair behind an ear.

“I...yes.”

“Is it always that bad?”

“The pain comes and goes. That I can deal with. But sometimes I feel as if I’m back there. I should not have pushed myself so far that day.”

Suri let out a sigh of relief. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

Cullen smirked a little. “I am.” He turned back to the ramparts. Suri moved to stand beside him. “I never told anyone what truly happened to me at Ferelden’s Circle. I was...not myself after that. I was angry. For years, that anger blinded me. I’m not proud of the man that made me.” He shuffled his feet for a moment. “The way I saw mages… I’m not sure I would have cared about you, and the thought of that sickens me. Now I can put some distance between myself and everything that happened. It’s a start.”

Suri looked down at her hands and smiled. “ _Mala suledin nadas_ ,” she murmured, loud enough for him to hear. “For what it’s worth, you’re a different man now, and I happen to fancy that man.”

Cullen studied her features. “Even after…?”

She rested her hand on his arm. “Cullen, I care about you. You’ve done nothing to change that.”

He smiled at her, lacing his fingers with hers. “What about you?” he asked. “You have troubles of your own. How are you holding up?”

It was Suri’s turn to gaze out at the mountains. “I’m terrified,” she admitted with a smirk. “Thedas is breathing down my neck and Corypheus is still out there somewhere. I haven’t seen my clan--my family--in so long.”

“We’ve made great strides,” Cullen reminded her. “Do not doubt yourself--or the Inquisition--just yet. If there’s anything I can do, you have only to ask.”

“Then all I ask for is a few minutes alone in your office for lunch,” she said boldly.

Cullen grinned. “As you wish.”

\---

Still unsure of whether or not what he was doing was the right decision. Cullen continued to climb up to Suri’s chambers. He had realized earlier that he had never actually been up to her chambers, despite their prolonged stay at Skyhold. Suri had always said that she was a people person, and prefered to be around other during most days. All those days in between, she had once confided in him, she kept close to herself.

“To catch up,” she had said. “Recharge with a nap, I don’t know…”

Their talk on the battlements had left him a little more calm than before, but he still felt unsatisfied. He sensed that Suri had something more to say, more to tell him, but all she was willing to do was give him that small smile she saved for him and listen. She was a truly phenomenal listener. Cullen had found himself watching her ears when she listened. They twitched, rose, fell, and cocked toward any sound she found worthy of her attention. It was mesmerizing.

Climbing the final steps up to her room, Cullen found it almost eerily quiet. The fire had been reduced to embers. The curtains were hastily drawn and there was a single candle lit on her desk. Cullen muffled a snort when he spotted the Inquisitor.

She had strung up a hammock between the posts of her bed canopy and was fast asleep within it. She was curled on one side, one book tucked under her head, two more down by her bare feet. Several papers were scattered beneath the hammock. Some of them he recognized as reports and missives, but a couple of them appeared to be letters. He scooped them all up and laid them down on her desk. His eyes caught on a scrap of parchment atop a small pile of books.

_Of Offensive Strategy (p. 21-28)_

_Diplomacy with Dignitaries (p. 36-38)_

_A Brief History of the Antivan Crows (I’ve yet to actually meet Leliana’s friend)_

Cullen smirked. A book for all three advisors. No doubt Suri was trying to learn everything they had to offer her. He kept reading.

_Hard in Hightown (Really, Varric?)_

_Side note: Cullen prefers green apples over the red ones. Speak to Dagna or Dalish about runecrafting temperature stones for him. Warm and cold._

Staring, Cullen read the last paragraph several times. She noticed something as small as what kind of apples he liked? A blush crept up to his ears. And she thought that runestones might help him? He looked back to Suri, still dead asleep in her hammock. Maker, how did she do it all? Nobody, least of all himself, he thought, deserved the care and attention of someone so selfless.

Cullen took the throw blanket that had been draped over her chair and went back over to her. Just as he was about to carefully cover her with it, he noticed something else. Her exposed left shoulder. He could barely see through the dark, but he recognized scars when he saw them. She had several of them curling over from her back, but he couldn’t see them all. He shook his head. He had never seen them before, and he worried she prefered them to stay a secret. The book she had been using as a pillow had slipped down the hammock and he pulled it out so he could drape the blanket over her carefully. She let out a soft moan and turned on her opposite side, Cullen grimacing at the thought of her waking up. She didn’t, thank the maker, and just as easily fell back asleep, her breathing evening out. He stepped back and looked at the book.

_Chess Tactics for the Inexperienced_

There was a note tucked just inside the cover.

_Wins: 1 (I cheated)_

_Losses: 13_

_Practice with Dorian in the library on Tuesday nights. Try the Hedge Knight move next time. He leaves the left one open._

The blush that flooded Cullen’s entire face was uncomfortable. Not only was Suri trying to learn tactics, diplomacy, and the finer skills of persuasion--not to mention the fact that she paid enough attention to notice what kind of apples he ate--but she was learning how to play chess. For him.

_Rutherford, you stupid, stupid, blind idiot. You don’t deserve her. You’ll never deserve someone like her._

Before he could put himself down further, Cullen added a few logs to the dying fire and left, hoping he could get in a few hours of sleep before his nightmares came calling. They always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've got a paper due in less than 24 hours and I have no idea what I'm supposed to be writing about. Whoops! The next few chapters might take just a bit longer to come up (seeing that I haven't written them yet), but there's bound to be a spam of drabble over the weekend. PREPARE FOR THE RETURN OF FERELDEN'S BOSS ASS BITCH!


	5. Lost in Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More talking! I like to imagine that Cullen would need multiple therapy sessions with his Quizzie to feel wholesome AND DAMMIT IF I DON'T WRITE IT!

“Inquisitor!” Bull boomed. “Come! Have a drink!”

Squinting at the Qunari, Suri sat down and watched him pour something into an empty tankard that smelled absolutely _repulsive._ She could probably simply sneeze and set in on fire. _Why the hell not?_ she thought, shrugging and raising to Bull’s.

“To killing a High Dragon like warriors of legend!”

Figuring it was too late for any takebacks, Suri held her breath and tipped the tankard back like a shot. Fire. Everything was fire. Or acid. Fire and acid. Fire and acid and regrets. Fire and acid and regrets and one big fucking hangover on the horizon, all from one drink. Suri nearly choked, slamming her free fist on the table and gasping. “Fuck!” she exclaimed, eyes burning.

Bull seemed to be taking it better than she was. He laughed. “I know, right?” He thumped her back. “Put some chest on your chest!” He hummed. “That little gurgle right before it spit fire? And that _roar._ What I wouldn’t give to roar like that.”

“If you roared like that,” Suri blurted out, “nobody in Skyhold would get any sleep when you and Dorian decided to-”

“The way the ground shook when it landed. The smell of the fires burning… _Taarsidath-an halsaam._ ” He laughed again. “You know Qunari hold dragons sacred? Well, as much as we hold anything sacred.” He poured her another drink before she could protest. “Your turn.”

Emboldened by the decent buzz from the first drink, Suri swallowed it quicker than before, still eliciting the same reaction, though. “What does that mean?” she gasped. She could feel her cheeks and ears burning. There was a delightful yet angry fire in her stomach. “You shouted it during the fight, too. What does it mean?”

“Oh, _taarsidath-an halsaam_?” He smirked deviously at her. “Closest translation would be, ‘I will bring myself sexual pleasure later, while thinking about this with great respect.’”

“ _Chief!_ ” Krem shouted from across the tavern. “What did I say about spoiling the Inquisitor’s innocence?”

“‘Preciate it, Krem!” Suri called back. “But that’s _long_ gone!” Bull roared with laughter. Suri giggled out of control. “You shouted that while it was breathing fire at us!”

“I know, right?” He swallowed his second drink, barely grunting. “The second cup’s easier. Most of the nerves in your throat are dead after the first one.” He raised a fist. “ _Ataashi_ . ‘The glorious ones.’ That’s our word for them. _Ataaaaasheeeeeeee._ ”

Suri’s swayed slightly as he drew out the word. Her had swam and she giggled again. “Fuck,” she sighed, realizing she was, surprisingly, already past ‘drunk.’ “It’s a shame we had to kill it.”

“Damn good fight. Dragons are the embodiment of raw power. But it’s all uncontrolled, savage…” Bull poured her _another_ drink. “So they need to be destroyed. Taming the wild. Order out of chaos. Have another drink.”

If she was being completely honest, Suri didn’t even know she _had_ swallowed the drink until her tankard was suddenly empty again. _Oh………...no…._ she thought. She took a deep breath and leaned over the table, pressing her forehead against the wood.

Bull laughed and raised his own drink. “Nice! To dragons!”

Suri lifted her head, grinning from ear to ear. “To the Iron Bull!” she toasted with her empty tankard.

“And his ass-kicking Inquisitor!” Suri fell into a fit of giggles and steadied her swaying body by simply allowing herself to fall against Bull’s mass. “Hey, Inquisitor!” he slurred. “I never get to say this since we’re always busy in the field and you’re pursuing the Commander an’ all… But you’ve got fantastic tits.”

“Awww!”

\---

_To the obviously less attractive redheaded Lavellan sister,_

_Assuming you’re still alive, how did the dragon hunting to? Even Rohan blanched when I mentioned it to him. Don’t die, Suri, otherwise I’ll have to embarrass our clan for the both of us. That’s a lot of work and responsibility we both know I won’t meet._

_I kissed Haleir! Be proud of me! I think the Keeper set us up together, so I cannot take all the credit. Though, I totally kissed_ him _, not the other way around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t nearly as romantic as yours, but it was just as sweet._

_Say hello to Cullen for me. I do hope he’s feeling better._

_Sunny_

\---

_Never let me drink with Bull ever again._

_I want to die._

_Suri_

\---

“Do you _ever_ stop eating?” Dorian snapped at her as she bit into her fourth buttered roll. Suri stared him down as she shoved the rest of it into her mouth with difficulty, crumbs flying as she let out an exhale.. Dorian stared back, unfazed. “You are such a child.”

Suri nearly crumbled, one hand flying to her mouth as she erupted into muffled giggles. Dorian rolled his eyes at her, only making her laughter rise. Flakes of the crust dusted her throat, threatening to choke her. She leaned on the table, gasping through her nose, one hand still firmly clamped over her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes as she struggled to swallow and laugh at the same time.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Varric announced, shaking his head as she finally swallowed the roll and took several, shaky breaths that were laced with giggles, “Thedas’ fearless Inquisitor.”

“Proud to be,” Suri sighed, wiping her eyes on her sleeves and fanning her cheeks.

“Inquisitor.” Cullen approached the trio. “A word, please?”

Despite the fact that Dorian elbowed Varric with a cocky looking smirk, Suri cleared her throat one final time and nodded. Before he could lead them out of the main doors, she caught his wrist. “Wait, let’s go…” She pulled him to the door that led to her quarters. “Don’t mind the mess,” she said as they climbed the stairs. She heard Cullen scoff behind her. She turned. “What?”

Cullen looked around them. “What mess?”

Suri paused. Her room wasn’t _really_ a mess, but she had picked up the phrase after Josephine said it practically every time Suri lingered anywhere near her desk. Which was a total lie on her ambassador’s part. Her desk was always immaculate. Suri’s cheeks grew warm. “Okay, I’ll admit that I said it for nothing.” She resisted the urge to pull her long braid over her shoulder and twist it nervously. She could hardly meet Cullen’s gaze. “I’ve never invited you up here without Inquisition business in the way.”

Cullen turned several shades of red, each more rich than the last. He coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, well, um…” He blew out his cheeks. “I may have forgotten to mention that, um… I came to visit--to talk! To you...two nights past…”

Suri snapped her fingers, grinning. “ _That’s_ how my papers ended up on my desk!” she exclaimed. “Then I thank you for cleaning up my mess, Cullen.”

“You’re not...upset?”

She motioned for him to sit in one of the chairs by the fire, which he did. “No,” she answered simply. “Should I be? It’s just my room. It’s not like I leave my smalls hanging from the ceiling.” It was as if he was ashamed to look at her, the way his eyes darted anywhere but. He seemed ready to die on the spot of embarrassment. She cleared her throat to hopefully cut some of the tension, smiling kindly. “What did you wish to ask me?” That made him finally look at her. “You said you wanted to talk. I suppose I should apologize for not being awake.” She winked at him. “The Inquisition never rests. Or at least that’s what Cassandra tells those of us who aren’t early birds.”

He laughed a little. “I simply wanted to...discuss...us…” Suri waited patiently, knowing for certain that whatever it was he was about to say wasn’t easy for him. “I can’t help but feel I’m a burden to you, Suri.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and held his breath.

Suri rose to her feet and kneeled beside his cushioned chair, taking his hand away from his face and holding it tight. “Tell me more,” she asked, nearly inaudible. “Please, Cullen. Let me understand.”

His hand squeezed hers. “I saw your notes the night I was here.” He let out a bark of a laugh. “Maker’s breath, Suri, you know what damn apples I like! And you’re learning chess for me!” His eyes were wide and dotted with desperation. “You do... _all_ this work, and I-” He cut himself off with a defeated sigh. “What have I done for you?”

Suri stared at him, relieved he was able to tell her, yet saddened that he felt as such. “ _Ma vhenan_ ,” she breathed, finding the words rolled off her tongue as easily as blinking. She had been afraid, so afraid… She stood up, cradling his face and kissing him firmly. “ _Mala suledin nadas,_ ” she murmured against his lips. “‘Now you must endure.’ You have, Cullen, and that means the world to me.” She kissed him again. “I notice and work as hard as I can because I found that one day I woke up and couldn’t bear the mere thought of you not being the first person I see and greet as fondly as I do. I cannot bear the thought of losing you, Cullen.

She pressed her forehead to his. “I love you,” she said with confidence.

Cullen pulled back slightly, grasping her arms and searching her face. “You…” he gasped.

Suri smiled. “Love you? Yes. Very much so.”

He suddenly stood up with her in his arms. She yelped and her legs flew around his waist to keep her up. He kissed her with a passion she had never felt from him. She grabbed at his red and gold cloak for purchase. It felt right, all of it. Every gasp she gave and took. Every glide of his tongue against hers. Every little nudge and press of skin.

“I love you, Suri.”

\---

Suri focused her breathing as she pressed cooling runestones to her temples. It didn’t help her headache, but it certainly soothed her flushed skin. Cullen shifted in her bed. He had been reserved about spending the night, but she had firmly latched onto his arm before he could even _think_ about reaching for his trousers. Her heart had swelled when she had felt his other arm curl around her as he pressed a kiss to her exposed neck. She had loved every second she spent listening to him fall asleep. She could tell he took calculated breaths to relax. Soon enough, he had started snoring softly.

But he wasn’t snoring now. He wasn’t sleeping soundly. Suri put down her runestones when a quiet whimper escaped Cullen. His hands fisted the sheets and he was shuffling slowly beneath them.

Nightmares. He had them often, as he had told her.

Suri slid back on to the bed, gently threading her fingers with his. His brow relaxed, but only slightly. She hummed a tune familiar to her. Her mind wandered as she strung together the melody. Cullen never spoke of his nightmares, nor had Suri ever asked him to. She could speak about her own night terrors and heavily relied on him to calm her down. Creators, there had even been that time she experienced sleep paralysis. She hadn’t been able to move or speak for several seconds. She had felt as if someone was squeezing the air from her lungs, leaving a void instead.

She had felt it all once again. The pain of the Anchor. Corypheus’ gnarled hand squeezing her arm until it broke. She could feel the unforgiving kiss of the fire across her back. All of it, at once, for several, truly harrowing seconds. She had sobbed on and off for hours. When her advisors brought Solas up to her room to help her back to sleep so that she might calm down, she’d threatened--in elvhen, no less--to set her room ablaze before she let anyone near her, much less touch her.

Cullen had admitted that he had never heard a more blood-chilling scream than the one she had given.

But _her_ nightmares weren’t the ones bothering Cullen. His own torments kept him from restful sleep. He clutched at her hand, still mumbling and tossing. Suri moved her left hand to Cullen’s cheek, thumbing away the tiny droplets of sweat from his skin.

_You’ll remember me when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley_

_You’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we walk in fields of gold_

_So she took her love for to gaze awhile upon the fields of barley_

_In his arm she fell as her hair came down among the fields of gold_

_Will you stay with me, will you be my love among the fields of barley?_

_We’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we lie in fields of gold_

_See the west wind move like a lover so upon the fields of barley_

_Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth among the fields of gold_

Cullen’s face relaxed enough to satisfy Suri. She slipped beneath the covers, his arm immediately moving to curl around her as it had earlier in the night. She smiled, sensing he was still asleep, his mind somewhere off in the Fade. Hopefully a better place than before.

 _Perhaps in fields of gold,_ she thought, drifting off to her own dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't fret, my children. The smut not included here will be uploaded this weekend, I promise.


	6. Deep Breath, Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suri is no stranger to pain

“Sparkler’s furious with you, you know?”

Suri took a moment to respond. “For which part?” she muttered. “Taking the arrows for him, or getting blood on his clothes?” Varric chuckled, pressing a cool, damp cloth to her forehead. “Oh, well, by all means, make sure to pass on to him that I’m so sorry.” Suri coughed, but quickly clamped her arms around herself in pain.

“Take it easy there, Red.” Varric pulled her arms back to her sides and made sure she didn’t move too much. “How are your ribs?”

Suri muttered something in elvhen, turning her head to the side. Sweat was practically pouring down her face from the pain. Why was it that she always got hurt the most whenever she left Solas back at Skyhold? The one and only healer besides herself? She cleared her throat as best as she could. “Can you do me a favor, Varric?”

“Sure, Red. What do you need?”

“I wrote a letter to my sister yesterday, but I’m pretty sure there’s an arrow-sized hole through it and a lot of blood staining it. Mind rewriting it for me?”

\---

_ Sunny, _

_ Congratulations on your newly acquired boyfriend! I’m so happy for you! Trust me when I say I think the Keeper was doing everything she could to get you two together. You two have been joined at the hip since you got into your first argument around the age of...eight? What was it about again? Something about whether or not halla have feelings? _

_ The dragon hunting went well, dear sister. Bull was practically vibrating with excitement when I told him he was coming with. He couldn’t stop smiling for an entire week after that. The Chargers were absolutely crazy when we got back. Drinks everywhere around the tavern! I’m surprised I didn’t end up with alcohol poisoning.  _

_ Before we left, Josie mentioned something about the Winter Palace in Halamshiral. Creators protect me, but I think the Inquisition will be making an appearance there soon for Empress Celene’s Winter Ball. That terrifies me more than any dragon, I can assure you. Who’s ever heard of a Dalish elf--a First, no less--attending an Orlesian ball? I don’t even know how to dance! I may as well jam an apple between my teeth and jump up on Empress Celene’s dining table! _

_ Remember when I promised you I’d be safe? Well, I never did, first of all, and I’ll have you know that my back can successfully hold four arrows before I’m downed. I’ve been stuck in this damn tent for the last dan and a half because  _ somebody _ would rather know how to raise the dead than stop an artery from leaking. I promise I’ll be okay. I’m just sore as all hell for the moment. Varric’s taking care of me as well as re-writing this letter. There’s a hole through the original as well as several bloodstains. Whoops. _

_ Cullen is doing much better, little sister. I’ll tell him hello for you. Although I wanted you and the clan far away from the whole Inquisition business, I would love to see your face again, sister. You should come to Skyhold and see the great work we’ve done. _

_ As always, be smart, little sister. _

_ Suri _

\---

Suri dismounted Appleseed, unwillingly crying out when he helped her down and accidentally squeezed her still injured middle. “Maker’s breath, I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

“She needs to see Solas,” Dorian chimed in. “Immediately, preferably.”

Suri stifled her next cry as Cullen lifted her up swiftly, turning it into a pained sigh. “Is this really necessary?” she muttered, tucking her head under his chin nonetheless.

“If you hadn’t noticed,” he started to reply, “you’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” She honestly hadn’t noticed. She let her eyes fall closed. “Okay.” Her head bumped against his breastplate lightly with every step he took. His fur mantle was tickling her ears. Before she realized it, they were up the stairs, through the hall, and was being set down on the edge of her bed. Someone was helping her remove her armor. 

“You said she broke ribs as well?”

“Yeah, Chuckles, um...three of them, I think. Why?”

Suri flinched away from a touch of magic along her sides, but relaxed when it felt soothing. “They’re still broken.”

“What?!”

“I misspoke, Commander. What I meant to say was that they have been improperly healed.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I didn’t do it right,” Suri sighed, keeping her eyes closed. Her upper body was bare save for her breastband. “Remember that red templar that knocked me against that tree, Varric? Right before I took the arrows? I didn’t have the time to heal them at the time. So I, uh...sort of fused my bones back together. Imperfectly.”

“By the tone of your voice,  _ da’len _ , I assume you know what that means?”

Suri brought a hand up to rub her brow. “Yeah…” she sighed.

“Enlighten us if you will, Chuckles.”

“You can only fix something if it is broken, Varric.”

Suri laughed as hard as her battered body would let her, which wasn’t very much. “I can’t even see you, Solas, but wipe that damn smirk off your face!” She heard him chuckle quietly from behind what sounded like his hand. “We can use the table over there so you have a better angle.”

“I’m sorry, I must be missing something,” Cullen’s voice cut in. “What exactly are you going to do to her?”

“He’s going to re-break my ribs, Cullen.”

“ _ Excuse me _ ?”

“ _ Elgar’nan, _ ” Suri breathed. “Varric, please take him downstairs.”

“What? No!”

“C’mon, Curly, I’m sure your lady love doesn’t want you to be here and hear this.”

“I think all of Skyhold is going to hear me, Varric,” Suri joked. “I’m ready when you are, Solas.”

“Wait, Suri…” Cullen helped her to her feet and cradled her sweaty face. She managed to open her eyes and look at him. “Are you sure about this? Are you sure you want me to go?”

She nodded. “I’m sure. I’ve had to do this once before, when I was nineteen. I scream pretty loud, as you well know. You don’t need to hear that.” She pecked a kiss on his lips. “Go to your office. The tavern, even. Take a walk outside. Do something that will at least  _ try _ and distract you. Please?” She grabbed his hands and gave them a fond squeeze. “For me?”

He sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. “Bold of you to assume I’ll be able to focus on anything besides you until you’re okay,” he joked, sighing again, heavier than before. “I’ll go. For you.”

“Thank you.” Suri watched her friend and her lover retreat down the stairs, shoulders sagging when she heard the door shut behind them. “Ready, Solas?”

\---

Her prediction proving mostly true, half of Skyhold had heard Suri Lavellan screaming, and were subsequently terrified for their Inquisitor. The word had spread like wildfire to the other half. There had been a flurry of servants up to her chambers to change the bedsheets and draw a bath for her. They had returned with the word of the Inquisitor sweating buckets and trembling, but fully healed. Nothing but a few knew what had been wrong, but the calm was returning to the fortress.

“Still here, Inquisitor?” Solas asked, his voice sounding far away in Suri’s mind.

“Trying,” she replied, panting.

“You did well.”

She waved a hand. “Thanks, Solas. I need to...take a bath, probably. Sorry for screaming in your face. Repeatedly.”

Solas crouched down to her level, resting his hand on her knee comfortingly. “Hardly a problem, Inquisitor. May I request that you take me with you the next time you intend to jump in front of an archer?”

Suri huffed, but smirked. She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Promise.” Solas bid her goodnight and left. Suri took a few more minutes, unsure whether she could walk the twenty feet over to her bathtub without falling over. She made it and, wanting to be off her feet already, simply rolled into the tub, clothes and all. Water sloshed over the side. Suri sat up, pushing her wet hair out of her face. She freed herself from the rest of her clothes, tossing them aside.

A little less than an hour later, Suri was dressed for sleep and tucked away in bed. She had a warming runestone, a pillow, and her unfinished report in her lap. The words soon started to blur together. More than once she caught herself writing in elvhen.  _ Well,  _ she figured,  _ it’s only first draft. _ She could fix it later before making copies for her advisors.

Just as she had set her work aside, the door to her chambers opened. Cullen, surprisingly unarmored, climbed the stairs. She smiled at the sight of his face. He quickly kneeled at her side of the bed and pulled her close. “Did you hear anything?” she asked, running her fingers through his soft, tempered curls.

“No,” he murmured into her neck. “The Chargers were plenty loud at the Herald’s Rest. I’m pretty sure Varric paid them off.”

“Probably,” Suri giggled. “Remind me to thank him.”


	7. No One Else But You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suri dreams of her clan as she recovers from her injuries. Solas checks in on her.

Suri was alive.

Brightly, utterly, screamingly alive.

One of her clanmates, Rohan, grabbed her hand and spun her out far, pulling her in tightly again, skipping up and down the line while Suri nearly lost herself in her potent joy.

"You're terrible at this!" he shouted to her over the chaos.

"I can't breathe!" she cried back, laughter overtaking her lungs in place of air.

"Do you remember the Dance of Fire from when we were kids?"

"No, no! Rohan-!" Before she could protest further, Suri was tugged to the center of the crowd. Noticing then, the clan gave them plenty of space.

Despite her reservations mere seconds earlier, Suri quickly tied off her hair and placed her hands on her hips, falling in step with Rohan. He grinned at her. His smile could make anyone happy, Rohan was always good at that. Their heels and toes kissed the ground at an alarming rate as the musicians sped up their tempo, pulling slightly worried looks from the two. Suri began to cry out shrilly to keep herself focused, ultimately missing a tap or two. Her top was too tight, her leggings feeling like they were falling down. Rohan was sharply focused, never missing a single beat.

"WHY ARE YOU SO GOOD?" Suri exclaimed breathlessly, eliciting laughter from the onlooking crowd.Rohan suddenly turned to her and crossed his hands, grabbing her tightly. _Oh no._ She knew by that fucking smirk what he was thinking.

"Don't you da-!"

Rohan leaned back slightly and spun them in a tight circle, keeping with the best of the music. It was everything Suri could do not to just tumble in the dirt or, worse, into the fire behind them. The music wound down. Rohan grinned once more and hauled Suri up in his arms. She sat there in his arms, utterly breathless.  
"You ass!" she exclaimed, smacking his chest. "Someday you're gonna make me roll an ankle!"

\---

Suri meandered down to the creek to wash her face free of sweat, smiling infinitely towards the night sky. The clan was far from being done celebrating. They had plenty to be thankful for. It felt good, not being trained and evaluated every second as First to the Keeper. She loved her studies, but it was nice to be just like everyone else. Suri stood up, ready to throw herself back into the tempest.

"Inquisitor?"

Suri spun on the balls of her feet, not recognizing the voice. An elf she didn't know the name of stood not far from her. He had his hands clasped behind his back and...was bald. Suri schooled her features against snorting at the sight. _He doesn't have a vallaslin,_ she noted. “You're a long way from home, flat-ear,” she said. “Best turn around before the hunters notice you're here.”

The elf frowned. “But you're already aware of my presence.”

"I'm a First. Not a hunter. And what I do with the information I have is none of your concern. Unless you wish to be killed...turn back. Please, don't make inform the Keeper."

“Do you not recognize me, _da'len?_ ”

 _Little one._ Suri took a step back. “No. You're not one of the Dalish.”

“Suri-”

Suri Lavellan cocked her head, her ears standing up. "How on the name of Mythal do you know my name?"

The elf frowned again. "You're the Inquisitor," he stated simply.

"Inquisitor." The shemlen word felt wrong on her elven tongue. "Inquisitor... Why do you call me this?"  
_"Suri!"_

She glanced back towards the festivities. "You need to leave. Now!" She turned and quickly made her way back, immediately falling in step with another dance. Rohan and her sister, Sunny, dragged Suri into a trip, laughing at her defeated, but amused expression. It was a more fluid dance. One that required flexibility and focus. Suri welcomed its end, despite how happy she felt. She wandered off again, but this time into the Dalish camp, the parts that had quieted by the festivities. Darkened aravels stood vigilant and the halla were singing. Enraptured by their song, Suri made her way to the edge of camp.

The nearest halla, a large and regal looking male, approached her eagerly, nudging his head beneath her hands. Suri laughed and gently stroked his head and ears, murmuring in elvhen. She stopped for a minute to duck under the fence, soon surrounded by the herd. Suri loved the halla. They were regal, beautiful, and definite physical manifestations of what she pictured a "pure spirit" looked like. A short, newborn halla lowed…

The elf had returned, resting his arms on the top of the fence.

"What did I tell you, flat-ear?" Suri asked, making a face at him.

"You don't seem to find me very annoying, despite the insult," he said, grinning slightly.

Suri kept her attention to the halla. "We are all the same in the eyes of the Creators. It may not be a popular opinion among the Dalish. But it's mine." The halla looked toward the man and stamped his foot. "Shhhh..." She kept stroking its silky fur and speaking elvhen. "He doesn't like you," she scoffed to the man.

“And what do _you_ think of me?” he asked.

“I don't know you.”

“ _Da'len._ I am Solas.”

Suri mouthed the name. It had the same strange feeling in her mouth, like it didn't belong there. A halla fawn nudged her leg. Suri froze. She got it. Like throwing back a shot, she got it. She turned to her friend. “Hello, Solas,” she said, smiling sadly. “What are you doing in my dream?” She kissed the halls on the nose and went over to the fence, leaning her arms on it as Solas was doing.

“I had a thought to check on you, see how you were doing after our procedure.”

Suri waved a hand. “I'm fine, Solas, really. It was only a few rebroken ribs.”

Solas glanced down the path. The clan was still celebrating noisily. “Do you normally dream of the Dalish?”

“When I'm not stress dreaming about politics or field work?” Suri joked. “Yeah. I loved it here. I find myself wishing I could go back sometimes, just to visit, if nothing else. I miss my sister terribly, the stubborn little girl she is.” She laughed. “When I got my _vallaslin_ , Sunny begged the Keeper every day for a month to get hers to, vowing she wouldn't make a single sound. She wanted mine as well, Ghilan'nain. She didn't get hers for five more years. Andruil. She's a fantastic hunter, if still immature as hell. She's gotten at _least_ four offers for her hand and turned them all down. ‘They're too boring,’ she told me once. ‘I need someone who will roll their eyes but altogether back me up when I charge a bear for no other reason besides for fun.’”

A halla nudged her back insistently. She giggled and ignored it, resting her cheek on her arms. “The halla like you,” Solas noted.

“More like they won't leave me alone. They follow me everywhere the second they see me. Pisses Sera off, but Cole likes them.” She traced a few lines of her _vallaslin_ with her finger. “Ghilan'nain,” she said simply. She ducked between the fence, standing next to Solas.

“The Dalish, I believe, put far too much into their Creators,” Solas said quietly. “To mark a face as fine as yours…”

“Solas,” Suri sighed. Her ears twitched at a spot of movement, and Solas was kissing her. She gasped and shoved him away roughly. “Solas! What the hell!”

The male halla knocked his horns against the fence.

\---

Suri sat up with a gasp, her heart racing. Her face was heated with anger, little dots of sweat speckling her cheeks. She groaned, holding her aching sides gingerly as she slipped her legs over the edge of her bed and got to her feet. _Solas!_ A low growl escaped her chest.

“Suri?” Cullen mumbled, blindingly reaching out a hand to her now vacated side of the bed. “What's wrong?”

“Don't worry, _vhenan,_ ” she tried to assure him, dull pain intruding in her voice. “I'll be right back. I need to go punch Solas.” Without another word, and without grabbing her boots or even a shirt, she hurried down the stairs, one arm supporting her bruised midsection. Her feet slapped the stone almost funnily as she made her way to the rotunda.

 _What in the name of Mythal was he thinking?_ she thought to herself. Suri had already once turned Solas away, in the Fade as well. And it was practically _the_ talk of the Inquisition, her and Cullen. Josephine had even stopped bringing up the offers for her hand at the war council meetings. She _loved_ Cullen. Why couldn’t Solas see that? Why try and pull her away? It seemed so unlike him. A few, fury-born tears fell from her eyes. She wiped at them quickly, refusing to look weak.

Solas was waiting for her. His hands were clasped behind his back, just as they had been in her dream when she first saw him. She was sure _something_ had come out of his mouth in his defense, but Suri silenced the words with a curt, backhand slap across his cheek that echoed viciously in the rotunda. He reeled back, holding the area. Instead of red from the impact, there was a dazzling pattern of frost on his smooth skin. Suri was fuming, breathing heavily as she stared him down. Or up, as she was shorter than him. As much as she wanted to leave it at that, a hit and run, she had too many words that needed saying.

 _“Never, EVER try that again, Solas!”_ she shouted in elvhen, her words echoing even louder than the slap had. _“If you try anything remotely close to it again, Fade or no, I’ll consider your assistance no longer needed, and your presence no longer welcome at Skyhold. Am I understood?”_ Solas hesitated, still holding his cheek and looking incredibly guilty. _“AM I UNDERSTOOD?”_ Suri asked again. She had probably just woken up a few people, and scared the piss out of those already awake.

“You are understood,” Solas murmured in common.

“Don’t forget this,” Suri spat, turning on a heel and marching back up to her room, too heated to be bothered by Skyhold’s constant chill. She returned to her room to find Cullen sitting on the edge of the bed, dozing off as he sat next to a single candle. He had re-lit the fire, she saw, bathing her quarters in the warming light she loved.

“You’re back,” he said. “What--oof!” Suri, in her desire to be as close to him as she could as quick as she could, nearly jumped in his lap, her thighs hugging his. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, relishing in his natural body heat. “Suri? Love, what’s wrong?”

“Would you believe me if I said ‘nothing?’” she asked, her voice muffled by his stubbled neck.

“No.”

She scoffed. “Didn’t think so.” She took a deep breath. “Just...hold me for now, okay? You’re all I care about at the moment.” His hands came around her gently, fingers pressing comfortingly into her back, in the little valleys of her scars. She snaked her hands into his hair, tempting his curls that had fallen back to their natural state as he slept. He hummed at her touch, the light drag of her nails against his scalp. She loved hearing those sounds from him. Loved to work out the knots in his shoulders and back so he might be granted a good night’s sleep, devoid of any nightmares he suffered from.

“Solas kissed me,” she blurted out, pulling back. Cullen’s face was frozen. No emotion. “In the Fade,” she clarified. “I was dreaming of home, my clan, my sister. Solas and I have been training in Fadewalking, crossing bridges between dreams. He said he wanted to check on how I was faring. We were by the halla and he just...kissed me. So, naturally, doing what any strong, independent woman would do in this situation, I went down to the rotunda and hit him. Hard.”

To her surprise, and after a lengthy pause, Cullen chuckled, reaching a hand around to trace a line of her _vallaslin_ on her chin. “You hit him?” he asked. “Did anyone see it?” She shook her head, mirroring his smirk. “Damn. I would’ve liked to.”

Suri laughed. “I’m sure you would have.” She reached her own hand between them and traced an invisible _vallaslin_ for him. Mythal. The Protector. Just across his cheekbones. _He’d look best with golden ink,_ she thought. _Matches his hair._ “You are the man I love, Cullen. Human or no, I will always love you, _ma vhenan._ ”

“What does that mean?” he asked quietly. “The words you just said.”

“ _Ma vhenan_ ,” she repeated. “‘My love, my heart.’ I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He kissed her them. It was warm and soft like a hug. Suri swiped her thumb across his stubbled jaw, smiling through it. He was her world, all of it. She wouldn’t have it any other way, wouldn’t have anyone else but him.

“You should get some sleep,” he said. “You’re still injured.”

“I’m sleeping in tomorrow,” she replied firmly.

He chuckled. “Yes, you are.”

"And, if you were to, say, find yourself in or _near_ the rotunda tomorrow, I won't say anything if you felt the need to introduce a certain someone to your fist. Just saying."

\---

_Suri,_

_It seems you are somehow bedridden every time I write you. Do you make a point to jump in front of every stray arrow from a bow and every wide swing from a broadsword? I wouldn't be surprised. You're like me in that regard. Or should I say I'm like you? No, I'm definitely the more influential of us both. I'm great at peer pressure. Just ask Rohan, we've gotten into plenty of trouble with the Keeper._

_By the way, I laughed my ass off when you sent that letter that was, quite literally, thirteen words, not including your name. How was your hangover, dear sister? Tell the Iron Bull to save me a drink, if I ever get to meet him._

_I'm afraid your celebration of my progressing relationship might have been premature. We don't see eye to eye on many things, sister. He's pleasant to look at, anyone in the clan would admit that, but he's too, wait for it, boring for me. Yes, I know, I've used that excuse for just about every young man in the clan who's taken an interest in me, but this time I mean it. I got as far as a kiss here and there but hit a wall. There's no spark with the guy! Maybe I need someone like the Iron Bull. He seems like a fun time._

_Continuing with the theme of doom and gloom, I must say that I carry a lot of sympathy for you, sister. The Winter Palace? Halamshiral? The Empress Celene herself? Sorry to say, sister, but you're quite fucked and, yes, you should just jump on a silver platter at this point. Who will make the first comment about your_ vallaslin, _I wonder? Some marquis? A lesser noble? Perhaps the Empress herself? No, she's too politically considerate to make such a mistake. Oof. Good luck. I hope you're taking lessons with your Lady Montilyet. You've a lot to learn of the shemlen world in too little time._

_Once again, please say hello to Cullen for me. I'm glad to hear he's doing better._

_Please, for once, Suri, stay safe. You're my only sister, lest you'd forgotten._

_Sunny_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP to all Solavellan romancers out there! I love Solas as well, but I'm not a huge fan of his hate towards the Dalish and how he can be all "I know everything so listen to me."


	8. Champion Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varric introduces Suri Lavellan to his source who might be able to help with Thedas' Corypheus problem.

Suri groaned as she read the title of the book Josephine handed her. "Are you quite serious? Homework?"

"I never joke when it comes to the Game, Inquisitor," she countered easily. "It is imperative that you learn all of this prior to attending the Winter Ball. We must all be prepared, but it is you who are in the spotlight as the head of the Inquisition." Sighing in defeat, Suri curled up in her chair, tucking her feet beneath her and covering her eyes with her hands. Peeking through her fingers, she caught Josie rolling her eyes with a smirk. "It's hardly as _difficult_ as you're making it seem, Inquisitor."

"You grew up in the Game!" Suri retorted. "You trained to be a bard! I'm supposed to learn all this in a matter of weeks? Tell me I at least have a couple months?" She sighed in relief when Josie nodded. "Can I not just play the Dalish First card? The nobles will never even know I'll be cursing their children if I do it in elvhen."

Josie rolled her eyes again. "Inquisitor, you must understand how important it is for you to convince the court that you are one of _them_ , that you know how to play the Game. I know you don't want to, but you must. Think of the shock on their faces when you address them properly, even better than they did for you. By the end of the night, they will have forgotten that you're a 'savage, tree-climbing, Dalish First.'"

Suri squinted at her ambassador. "Why'd you quote that?" she asked. "Have they actually said that about me?"

"In the early days of the Inquisition, yes, I received a number of letters claiming heresy due to the fact that you're Dalish." Josie sat forward. "It happens no more, I can assure you of that."

Suri eyed the book again and blew out her cheeks. "Well, it certainly can't hurt my chances. Besides, believe it or not, I've actually done some research into the court. Just in case, I always thought. Suppose now I'll really have to put my nose to the grindstone." She picked up the book. "And I assume you'll make arrangements for... _eugh_...ballroom dancing lessons for the inner circle?"

"Of course, Inquisitor. They begin next week in the afternoon. By the time Madam de Fer and I are done, all of you will be able to brave the floor on your own. But let's hope it doesn't come to that." She stood up and bowed her head. "Inquisitor."

"Thank you, Josie!" Suri called as her ambassador left the room, leaving her with her homework. She shot the book one last nasty look before cursing in elvhen and setting to work.

She started out in the chair she was already sitting in, reviewing the proper titles and addresses of Orlesian nobility. When her bum started to go numb, she moved to the chaise, holding the book above her head and struggling through the names of nobility that owned the titles. When she was through with those, she began pacing back and forth in front of the fire, her head swimming with names, titles, trades specialties, allies, enemies, and even distant relations between the families. The shemlen words made her long for an elven storybook to read from, just so she could escape the common tongue for a little while. Deciding it was the next best thing, she began reviewing all she had learned aloud in elvhen.

 _"I am so pleased to meet-"_ Suri scoffed and tried again. _"What a an absolute delight to finally be acquainted, dear marquis!"_ She scowled at the open book, wishing she could set it on fire and be done with it. _"A Dalish First attending a blighted Orlesian ball, complete with the Empress herself. Creators help me. Maybe I should just find a red templar and ask for him to run me through with his fucking sword, so help me-"_

"I can't say I know what _you're_ saying, but I know it isn't anything good." Cullen came up the stairs, grinning at her with one hand already working at the straps of his armor. "What's got you so twisted up?"

Suri tossed the book on the sofa, running her hands through her unrestrained hair. "Orlesians," she said with her best Fereldan accent. "Josie gave me homework. How was your day?"

"Good." He grunted as his fingers were pinched in a buckle. Suri went to help him. "You missed quite the sight in the yard today. There was a sparring match between Bull and myself. He wanted to work on his blind side defense, so Cremisius and I entertained him for the better part of an hour. Drew quite the crowd."

Suri smiled, pulling his breastplate free and hanging it on the armor stand. "I'll have to make a point to get out of this cave more often. Oh, by the way, my sister says hello again." Cullen chuckled. "At least you got to do what you liked today instead of working on this..." She half muttered, half spit a phrase in elvhen. "Orlesian politics. That's why I was speaking out loud in my tongue."

Cullen was quiet for a moment before speaking again. He took her hands away from working at his bracers, kissing her knuckles. "You miss it," he said. "Your clan."

"My clan, my sister, the Dalish in general? Yes. Very much so." She held out her marked hand. "I never asked for this. Only a fool would ask for..." she gestured around them. "All of this is unbelievable to someone like me. Who's ever heard of a Dalish First living in stone walls?"

"Would you take it all back if you could? Put the burden on someone else's shoulders if it meant you were free?"

"I never said that," she retorted. "I may not be the best at this Inquisitor nonsense, but I do my damn best. And besides..." she smiled. "I have you. My Commander Cullen. I wouldn't give you up for the world." She pulled his bracers free and set them aside as well. She noticed he was standing stiffer than usual. "You're thinking about something, _ma vhenan._ What's on your mind?"

"Nothing. It's just...I have a good idea of who Varric's source might be."

"Really? Who?"

Cullen gave her a look that was somewhere between a smirk and a frown. "Suri, it's not _that_ hard to figure out if I might know who it is." He gave her arm a squeeze. "Kirkwall?"

Suri raised an eyebrow. "You think it's Hawke? The Champion of Kirkwall?"

"Hasn't Varric convinced you to read _The Tale of the Champion_ yet?"

"And you have?"

He laughed. "I've had it read _at_ me. He doesn't mention Corypheus outright, but he does reference an 'ugly sack of potatoes of a magister dressed for a cuppa.'" Suri giggled. "I could be wrong, of course, but Hawke is a good guess."

"Well, if you're right, then Leliana will be too. Cassandra is going to kill Varric. The only thing that would make it better is if the bloody Hero of Ferelden showed up here at Skyhold."

\---

The day was beautifully sunny, making the snow shine like diamonds dotted all along Skyhold. Suri was wrapped tightly in her favorite sweater she had gotten at Redcliffe. Fern was on his back beneath her and she was rubbing his belly vigorously, giggling as his foot kicked with every pass of her hands. She had to remind herself to ask Cullen if he knew a good kaddis for him the next time she took him out in the field. Or perhaps she could search the library for something. _Ha! I doubt it! Dorian will have cleared out any book he deemed unworthy of the Inquisition!_

"Inquisitor, meet Garrett Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall."

Suri shot to her feet, brushing off her pants as she looked at the man approaching her and Varric. He had dark, choppy hair with a matching beard. His low-hanging bangs nearly hid his bright, icy blue eyes that seemed to evaluate every inch of her within a few seconds. He was even wearing his famous Champion armor that matched Varric's illustration to the very last strap across his chest (Suri had eventually given in and scoured the library for a copy of Varric's book).

"Though I don't use that title much anymore," Hawke said, sticking out his staff-worn hand. Suri took it, trying to snap out of her shock.

Varric gestured to her with a cheeky smirk. "Hawke, Inquisitor Suri Lavellan. I figured you might have some friendly advice about Corypheus. You and I did fight him after all." Suri called after him as he left them alone. Hawke leaned on the ramparts on his arms, studying the courtyard below them. She took a spot beside him, folding her arms in front of her.

"Impressive view. Reminds me of my home in Kirkwall. I had a balcony that overlooked the whole city. I loved it at first. But after a while, all I could see were the people out there depending on me. Bloody buzzkill."

Suri scoffed kindly. "You're lucky it was just a single city. I've got half of Thedas, most of them calling me less-than-nice names." She shook her head. "Does it ever get any easier?"

She could just barely spot the smirk peeking out from behind his beard. "I'll let you know," he said. "But...back to Corypheus. You've already dropped half a mountain on the bastard," he said. "I'm sure anything I tell you pales in comparison."

"Oh, I don't know," Suri responded airily. "You _did_ save a city from a horde of rampaging qunari."

Hawke chuckled. Fern wedged his way under the Champion, looking for attention. Hawke smiled and scratched the hound behind the ears, thumbing that little valley down the middle of his soft head. "I don't see how that really applies. Or is there a horde of rampaging qunari I don't know about?"

"That seems to be one of the only problems we _don't_ have."

"So, then, what can I tell you?"

Suri was glad Hawke couldn't see her shrug. "Varric said that you fought Corypheus before."

"Fought and killed." Hawke stood up and turned to face her. "The Grey Wardens were holding him, and he somehow used his connection to the darkspawn to influence them."

"Corypheus got into their heads," Varric explained. "Messed with their minds. Turned them against each other."

"If the Wardens have disappeared, they could have fallen under his control again."

"That's not good," Suri noted. "If that's what happened to the Wardens, do you think we can free them?"

It was Hawke's turn to shrug. "It's possible. But we need to know more first. I've got a...friend in the Wardens. He was investigating something unrelated for me. The last time we spoke, he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks. Since then, nothing."

"Corypheus would certainly qualify as corruption in the ranks," Varric chimed in. "Did your friend disappear with them?"

"No. He told me he'd be hiding in an old smuggler's cave near Crestwood."

"If you didn't know about Corypheus, what were you doing with the Wardens?" Suri asked.

"The templars in Kirkwall were using a strange form of lyrium. It was red. I'd hoped the Wardens could tell me more about it."

"We've encountered red lyrium. Corypheus was using it to corrupt the templars and turn them into his slaves. Hopefully your friend in the Wardens will know more. I appreciate the help, Hawke."

Hawke shook his head slightly. "I'm doing this as much for myself as for you," he admitted. "Corypheus is my responsibility. I thought I'd killed him before. This time, I'll make sure of it."

\---

Suri ducked just in time as a bottle shattered on the wall behind her, showering her with tiny pieces of glass. She swore in elvhen as Cassandra slammed Varric against the railing. "You knew were Hawke was all along!" she shouted.

Varric shoved her away. "You're damned right I did!" he yelled back.

"You conniving little shit!" Varric easily ducked beneath the punch she threw at him, darting to the other end of the table that now separated them.

"You kidnapped me! You interrogated me! What did you expect?"

"Hey!" Suri intervened. "Enough!"

"You're taking _his_ side?"

Suri stuck her hand out. "I said _enough!_ "

Cassandra slammed her fist down on the table. For a moment, Suri's composure almost broke. "We needed someone to lead this Inquisition," she said. "First, Leliana and I searched for the Hero of Ferelden, but she had vanished. Then we looked for Hawke. But he was gone, too. We thought it all connected, but no." She glared daggers at Varric. "It was just _you._ You kept him from us."

"The Inquisition _has_ a leader!" Varric countered.

"Hawke would have been at the Conclave! If _anyone_ could have saved Most Holy..."

"Varric's not responsible for what happened at the Conclave, Cassandra!"

" _I_ was protecting my friend!" Varric defended.

"Varric is a liar, Inquisitor. A snake. Even after the Conclave, when we needed Hawke most, Varric kept him secret."

"He's with us now. We're on the same side!"

"We all know who's side you're on, Varric. It will never be the Inquisition's."

"That's unfair, Cassandra!" Suri snapped. "Attacking him now won't help us get anywhere."

"Exactly!"

Suri rounded on her roguish friend. "And _you_ better not hide anything else that might help us, get it?"

Varric let out an exasperated sigh, but his shoulders sagged. "I understand."

Cassandra shook her head and turned her back on the two of them, folding her arms against the railing. "I must not think of what could have been," she admitted. "We have so much at stake." She sighed. "Go, Varric. Just...go." The fury was gone from her voice.

Varric glanced at Suri. She tipped her head, wordlessly telling him to take the escape while it was still open. At the top of the stairs, he stopped. "You know what I think?" he said. "If Hawke had been at the Temple, he'd be dead, too. You people have done enough to him."

There was a finality in his words that chased a shiver down Suri's spine. She wasn't mad at Varric, not truly. She understood. Had Hawke died at the Conclave, he probably would have been overwhelmed with guilt. She couldn't imagine losing someone like that, knowing she had led the Inquisition to her friend. She wandered over to Cassandra, who obviously needed something close to reassurance.

"I...believed him," she muttered. "He spun his story for me, and I swallowed it. If I'd just explained what was at stake...if I'd just made him understand..." She turned around and sat down in one of the chairs around the table. "But I didn't, did I? I didn't explain why we needed Hawke."

Suri hopped up on the table, crossing her ankles. "If Hawke had been at the Conclave, Cassandra, we'd still be here," she said carefully. "Or, rather, _you'd_ still be here. I'd be dead, most likely, and Hawke would be in my place. Justinia would still be dead, and Corypheus would still be out there. The only thing that would have changed would be the person behind the title." She smirked. " _Elgar'nan,_ Hawke probably would have turned the position down."

"He supported the mage rebellion," Cassandra added. "He wouldn't have trusted me for a second. But...this isn't about Hawke, or even Varric. Not truly. I should have been more careful. I should have been smarter. I don't deserve to be here."

Although it probably wasn't the best of ideas at the moment, Suri laughed. "Have you looked at our Inquisition, Cassandra, at _me_?" She laughed again. _"Mythal bless your heart, my friend,"_ she prayed before switching back to common. "We're _all_ fools, here."

Cassandra allowed herself some choked laughter. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she asked.

"More at home, maybe."

She closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. "I want you to know, I have no regrets. Maybe if we'd found Hawke or the Hero of Ferelden, the Maker would't have needed to send you, as you said before. But he did." They both stood. "You're...not what I'd pictured." Suri gave her a look that said, _Really?_ "But if I've learned anything, it's that I know less than nothing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO MY DUMBASS ACCIDENTALLY CLOSED THE WINDOW AND LIKE HALF OF THIS CHAPTER WAS LOST SO I HAD A BREAKDOWN BUT I GOT MY SHIT BACK TOGETHER TO GET THIS SHIT IN THERE CAUSE FUCK ME IF I DON'T GET THIS OFF MY CHEST RN


	9. Warden Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suri Lavellan meets the bloody Warden-Constable of Ferelden, MA BOI AND #1 HUSBAND!

Suri pulled open the shabby door and entered a large, cavernous room. Literally, the room was a cave cavern, complete with stalactites and stalagmites. Even a few columns here and there. Torches were set up, bringing light to the dreary room. Suri spotted a table with what looked like multiple headaches worth of work on it. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Cocking her head, Suri was distracted by a drop of water landing on her head. She smirked and looked straight up, catching the next one on her cheek.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her heart leapt at the sound of a sword being drawn. Suri held her hands up and calmly turned around, facing her adversary. A Grey Warden had a sword leveled to her neck, scowling at her from down the blade. He had sandy brown hair pushed back from his face and a slight scruff along his jaw and mouth.

Hawke rushed in, tripping over a stray stone but keeping his footing. “Wait!” he exclaimed, his voice laced with the barest hint of laughter. “It’s just us. I’ve brought the Inquisitor.” Varric, Cole, and Cassandra milled in behind Hawke. “Please don’t cut her throat.”

“Really, Hawke, maybe you should _walk in_ with her next time to avoid the slight chance that I do just that.” The Warden chuckled and sheathed his sword, offering his hand instead and grinning. “I’m Alistair. It’s an honor to meet all of you. I wish it were somewhere nicer.”

Suri froze, yet still managed to shake his hand, albeit weakly. “Are you _the_ Alistair?” she asked incredulously. “ _The_ Alistair who fought the Archdemon with the Hero of Ferelden?”

Alistair chuckled again, quieter. “I need to change my name,” he murmured, shaking his head and smirking. He took a deep breath. “Yes, that was me. War. Betrayal. Darkspawn. All lots of fun and made for excellent stories, I’m sure.” His tone was dripping with bored starcasm. “Nobody cares about that anymore.” His jaw squared. “I answer to Warden-Commander Clarel now, just like everyone else.”

Suri planted her hands on her hips, shifting her weight to one leg. “Most of you Wardens disappear. Then I run into a darkspawn magister named Corypheus. Do you think one might have something to do with the other?”

“I think so,” he replied. “When Hawke killed Corypheus, the Wardens thought the matter resolved. But Archdemons don’t die from simple injury.” He started pacing slowly. “I feared Corypheus might have the same power, so I started to investigate.” He rounded on his table full of work. “I found hints, but no proof. And then, not long after, _every_ Warden in Orlais began to hear the Calling.”

“I recall that being a bad thing,” Hawke snarked. “But I don’t recall you telling me about all _this._ ”

“It was a secret. A very dangerous one. I try to actually keep a _few_ of my oaths to the Wardens.” He smirked.

Suri looked between Hawke and Alistair, confused. “Is the Calling some sort of Grey Warden ritual?” she asked.

Alistair hesitated, then shrugged. “Well...I _can_ tell you that Wardens are connected somehow to the darkspawn. But eventually...that connection poisons us.” His expression darkened noticeably. “You get bad dreams, and then you start to hear the music. It calls to you, quiet at first, then so loud you can’t bear it.” He shook his head. “At that point you say farewell and go into the Deep Roads to die fighting. ‘In death, sacrifice.’”

“And every Grey Warden in Orlais is hearing that right now?” Hawke asked, scratching his beard. “They think they’re dying?”

Alistair nodded. “Yes. I think Corypheus caused this, somehow. If all the Wardens die, who will stop the next Blight? That’s what has them so terrified.”

“And then they do something desperate. Which is, of course, what Corypheus wants.”

“Is the Calling they’re hearing real?” Suri inquired. “Or is Corypheus just mimicking it somehow?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted. “Before all this, I had barely heard of Corypheus. Only what the Warden-Commander of Ferelden had mentioned after the first time he appeared and an official report had appeared. I didn’t even know he was supposed to be a magister until I started digging around. Right now, all that matters is the Wardens are acting like they’re all going to die.”

“You said all the Wardens are hearing the Calling. Does that include you?”

Alistair crossed his arms over his chest and hesitated. “Unfortunately, yes. When I’m talking or fighting, I can almost ignore it.” He grimaced. “But whenever things are quiet, I can hear it. It’s like a song you can’t get out of your head. Damned annoying, frankly.”

So, the Wardens are making some last, desperate attack on the darkspawn?”

“I _saw_ what a Blight did to Ferelden,” he snapped. “If Wardens hadn’t stopped it, there would be no more Thedas at the moment, most likely. Warden-Commander Clarel proposed some drastic things--blood magic and such--to prevent further Blight before we die.” He shrugged sharply. “I protested. Maybe too loudly, and Clarel sent guards, and...well, here I am.”

He jerked his head to a map on the table. “Wardens were gathering in the Western Approach. It’s an old Tevinter ritual tower.” He walked past the group. “I was just about to head and investigate. I could use some help.”

\---

_Sister,_

_You’ll never fucking believe this: I’ve just met bloody Alistair Theirin, the Warden-Constable of Ferelden! It’s funny, the man greeted me with a sword to my neck. Though, him and Varric have provided the most excellent banter. Hawke keeps trying to one-up him in regards to their individual adventures. I want to ask, sister, about the Blight, but I know enough to see that as rude. One can only read so much until they begin to crave more. He’s an excellent fighter. He’s both the wave that breaks and the cliff that stands against it._

_We’re back at Skyhold for now until we figure out what to do about Adamant. “Impenetrable,” Cullen tells me. As much studying as I’ve done with tactics and strategy, I’ve no idea what to do. It’s daunting._

_There are a great many things I wish, little sister, but only time and hard work will grant them._

_I'm sorry to hear your exploit with men isn't going so well. Believe me when I say I understand what you mean. I feel the same. There's something about Cullen that I don't believe I would find in anyone from our clan, or elsewhere, for that matter. He is unlike any shem I've ever met, and I'm glad it's him I've gone and fallen in love with._

_I swear to the Creators, Sunny, if you ever come to Skyhold and start hitting on Bull, I might actually pass out from laughter. Or groaning excessively, I haven't decided. I can hear the banter now. Please, for the love that I bear for you, little sister, never ever ever ever ever ever ever hit on Bull. (But, if, by some grace or curse, do_ actually _fall for my friend, I'll support you of course. After I stop dying of laughter.) I'd prefer to watch you get piss drunk and embarrass yourself in the eyes of the entire tavern. You'd never hear the end of it from me._

_Until next time, Sunny._

_Suri_

\---

Fern barked at a few stray birds, Suri giggling after him. She held her clasped hands behind her as they walked, enjoying some time to herself without being pestered by messengers. The day was nice and sunny, something quiet that Suri liked to see every once in a while. Fern barked again and scamepred down the battlements. Suri shouted after him, but stopped when she saw what he had run after. A tan mabari was sitting next to Warden Alistair. The Warden himself turned and grinned when he saw Fern and crouched down to scratch his head.

“Hello there,” he greeted the hound. “Who are you, eh?” He chuckled when Fern licked his cheek. The other mabari boofed and nudged his head under Alistair’s arm, seemingly looking for attention. Alistair lost his balance and toppled over, both mabari taking advantage of the downed man and began their assault on his exposed face. The man laughed, spluttered, and tried to shield his face in vain. Suri couldn’t help but laugh as well. It was several moments before she regained enough of herself to call Fern back. Her mabari returned to her side, tail wagging madly.

“Sebastian!” Alistair cried out. “C’mon, get off!” The tan mabari backed off of his master and panted happily as Alistair got back to his feet, straightening his armor and clearing his throat. “Ah, um, forgive me, Inquisitor. Didn’t see you there.”

Suri was still giggling. “Please, forgive _me_ , Warden-Constable,” she insisted. “Fern here never learned basic manners. I didn’t realize you had a mabari.”

“My wife’s, actually,” he said, petting the hound fondly. “He’s a bit too old for any overly exciting adventure, but Warden Nathaniel sent him here anyway once he heard I was with the Inquisition. Cullen reckons he can find a suitable bitch to breed him with.” He chuckled. “Sebastian doesn’t like to listen to me as much as he does with Rose.”

Suri couldn’t help herself as she asked, “What’s she like? The Hero of Ferelden?”

To her surprise, Alistair laughed. “You’ll need more than a few _hours_ if you really want me to talk about my wife.” Suri smiled. “I think if she were here…” He paused. “She’d tell me to stop brooding about all the damn time.”

“Was she involved with all of this Corypheus business?”

He shook his head. “No. She left before any of this began. A mission of her own, something personal.” He took a deep breath and paused once again. He looked down at his wife’s mabari. Sebastian whined quietly and nuzzled his hand. Suri thought for a moment Alistair would leave it at that. “We Wardens don’t live that long. The Calling I spoke of--the real one--eventually it kills us. Thing is, when we killed the Archdemon...we discovered that might not be as set in stone as we thought.” He scratched Sebastian’s ears. “She’s searching for a way to end the curse. For us both. Maybe for us all.”

“The way you talk about her, I’m surprised you two aren’t with each other.”

Alistair chuckled softly. “Oh, there was a discussion, _believe me_. Someone had to look into the rumors about Corypheus. We didn’t know what was involved at the time. I reckon she would’ve stayed, had we known.” His jaw squared, determination set in his warm eyes. “When I’m done here, we’ll be together again. _Forever_ , this time.”

“Have you been happy with her in the years since the Blight?”

His expression softened into something close to wonder. “Happier than I ever dreamed was possible. She is far more than I deserve, Inquisitor...and I hope I bring her just as much joy. She was rebuilding the Wardens in Ferelden while I hunted darkspawn left over from the Blight. It was hard work for both of us, but we always had each other.” He smiled at her. “You’d love her.”

"Inquisitor!" A messenger ran up. "Your presence is requested in the war room immediately."

"Oh, Creators," she muttered as he ran off. "I swear, if they're sending me out immediately, I'm locking myself in my room and tossing the wardrobe down the stairs." Alistair chuckled. She pet her mabari. "Mind watching him while I go deal with whatever problem's come up?"

"Of course, Inquisitor. Good luck. Something tells me you'll need it."

\---

" _This_ is what I was called for?" Suri scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "A measly little love tap?"

"We simply wish to know _why_ , Inquisitor," Josephine implored, "as the Commander thought it best that you explain. He claims that you know as well." Josie looked like she wanted to set Cullen's mantle on fire with the candle of her board. Leliana looked similar, and Suri wasn't wholly unconvinced she had a knife somewhere at the ready. Even Cassandra was present, but she seemed less troubled by the situation, more curious as to what caused Cullen to do what he did.

Suri herself chuckled quietly. "I specifically told Cullen that I wouldn't mind if he went and hit Solas," she admitted, relishing in the surprised looks her friends gave her in varying degrees, Josephine being the most surprised. "Solas went ahead and thought it was alright to kiss me in the Fade. Again. After already being rejected twice, both in the Fade and to his actual face." She sighed and shook her head. "Ladies, please, I wasn't going to just let an unwanted advance go unpunished, as vulgar as that may sound. Sorry, Josie, I know you hate violence."

Her diplomatic advisor straightened up. "I believe I can make an exception for this, Inquisitor."

Suri's features hardened. "I've gone and told him that, if he tries something again...first, Creators protect him from _me_." Cullen muffled a snort with his hand. Cassandra was fighting against a smirk, and losing. "Second, that his presence would no longer be welcome at Skyhold, or with the Inquisition. Is that clear to all of you? I don't care how any of you treat or address him, just know that he's on thin-fucking-ice with Thedas' Inquisitor right now. I've half a mind to toss him with the Chargers next time the head out, hopefully somewhere with no rifts, spirits, or artifacts so he'll suffer." This time, Cassandra snickered, quickly hiding it behind a poor cough. 

"Understood, Inquisitor," Leliana responded, smirking just a tad. The others echoed her and nodded.

\---

_Suri,_

_Wait until you hear and see what I’ve gone and done._

_Sunny_

\---

Warden-Commander Roselyn Theirin offered her hand to the younger elven woman arse-down in the dirt. The woman blew her robustly red hair out of her face and took the hand. “Alright there, Lavellan?” Rose asked.

“Sunny,” she corrected the commander. “Just Sunny.”

The commander scoffed lightly, picking up Sunny’s bow and handing it to her. “Well, ‘Just Sunny,’ you know where Skyhold is, right?”

Sunny pulled a map from the inside of her arm guard, handing it over. “All yours, Warden-Commander. Ready to move on?”

Commander Theirin laughed, glancing at the map. Sunny honestly hadn’t expected the fabled Hero of Ferelden to laugh and smile so much, and at the smallest things, as well. “I expect your sister is gonna kick your arse for not telling her you’re bringing the bloody Hero of Ferelden straight to the Inquisition,” she chuckled.

Sunny shouldered her bow. “Oh, no doubt about it. It’s how we show our sisterly affection for each other.”


	10. Legends Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor, the Champion of Kirkwall, and the Hero of Ferelden are finally all in once place. Who will fuck things up first? ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a few missing moments and an alternate POV check out my separate piece "Thedas Three"

“Wardens at the gate!”

Everyone’s gaze alternated from the breathless messenger to the present Warden. Alistair Theirin looked utterly confused, brows furrowing. He looked around the war table. “I didn’t send for anyone!” he exclaimed before rushing out after the messenger.

Suri didn’t even have the patience to ask questions. She jumped up on the table, crossing it and following the Warden-Constable. Could it be the Orlesian Wardens, or at least some of them? Could they help with the whole Adamant problem? A million questions rushed through her head as her feet carried her swiftly to the gates, easily passing Alistair on the way there. A small crowd had gathered around a single, dark-colored Ferelden Forder being held by a Warden clad in a rather beat up set of silverite scales. Alistair’s mabari, Sebastian, tackled the Warden without a second thought, pinning her as he assaulted her face with his tongue. Suri couldn’t help but chuckle. The Warden’s hands rubbed up and down the hound’s massive body, sobbing heavily. Suri cocked her head, her ears doing the same. Who was she?

“Sebastian!” Alistair called sharply, finally arriving. Both the unnamed Warden and the hound looked up at the sound of his voice. She got to her feet, knees visibly shaking as tears coursed down her face. Alistair gasped sharply. In a flash, they were in a tight embrace, her legs locking around Alistair’s. Both of the Wardens were sobbing, fingers digging into their uniforms as they simply held each other. The small crowd stared, but Suri could only smirk, even if she wasn’t fully grasping what was going on.

Suri’s eyes wandered back to the crowd, wary of the horse now unrestrained possibly being spooked. Her gaze locked on a short, elvhen woman with Andruil’s  _ vallaslin _ . She was patting the horse’s flank, smiling as her thumb gently plucked at the bowstring across her torso.

_ “SUNNY?!?” _ Suri shrieked, rushing the woman and tackling her as Sebastian had done to the Warden. Her younger sister shouted in protest under her as tears began to fall from Suri’s eyes.  _ “What in the name of Mythal are you doing here,  _ da’len _?” _ She released her sister and pulled her to her feet, only to trap her in a crushing hug, lifting her up.

“Creators!” Sunny strained to say. “Suri! Let me down!”

“No!” Her sister was here, at Skyhold. With the Inquisition. Finally, after months of nothing but letters, she could finally be with her sister again. She could hear her heartbeat through her Dalish armor, sighing at the fact that all of it was real. “You’re here,” she said, her voice muffled.

“I am, sister, now  _ let me down! _ ”

Suri did as she was asked, laughing. Although most of the clan couldn’t tell the two of them apart from a distance, Suri had memorized every difference they had. Sunny’s cheeks were slightly rounder, neck longer, and shorter than Suri. Suri’s jawline was sharper, her ears longer, and her voice was slightly higher. The obvious difference was their  _ vallaslins. _ Suri had Ghilan’nain while Sunny had Andruil. Their hair, however, was the same remarkable red that had always stuck out against their green Dalish armor back with the clan.

“Inquisitor?” Suri turned to find the Warden directly behind her, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Rose Theirin, Warden-Commander of Ferelden.” She stuck her hand out.

Instead of shaking the Hero of Ferelden’s hand, Suri turned and smacked her sister on the arm, scowling and spouting off in elvhen.  _ “This is what you meant by your last letter? You brought the bloody Hero of Ferelden to Skyhold, to the Inquisition without telling me straight out? Sunny!” _ She turned back to the elven woman and shook her hand, forcing a smile. “An absolute honor, Warden-Commander!” she exclaimed, her heart racing with excitement. “Really, Creators, this is incredible.”

“I’m glad you’re impressed,” Rose chuckled. “Your sister mentioned something about the Wardens, so I figured I could be of some help. Titles, it seems, speak volumes among the Wardens, as I’ve found.”

“As does killing an Archdemon,” Alistair added. The Warden-Constable was practically vibrating with excitement, gazing at his wife with utter adoration in his soft eyes. 

“I’ve sent for another friend, as well. He should be here within the week.”

“Who?”

Rose, if possible, grinned wider. “Stroud,” she drawled, as if the name was an inside joke. “He’s popular among the Orlesian Wardens,” she explained to the Inquisitor. “He’ll know more about what’s going on, hopefully. If not, he’s still a damn good warrior to have on your side. Oh, and a Warden of mine as well, but I’m not sure when he’ll be here...”

Suri was speechless. The Hero of Ferelden had shown up out of nowhere, trailing the Inquisitor’s sister, and was ready to offer anything she had to give to the Inquisition. Rose had been the first candidate to lead the Inquisition. Hawke had been second choice. Suri was leading it by pure accident. As her heart thumped in her throat, a knot formed in her stomach, suddenly overwhelmed. How could she even  _ begin _ to live up to their reputations, especially now that they were all in one place? Ferelden and Orlais knew the Hero of Ferelden best. The Champion of Kirkwall was infamous in southern Thedas. What would change, if anything?

“If you’ll excuse us, Inquisitor,” Alistair cut in, “I haven’t seen my wife in two years, and I’d like to acquaint myself with her.”

Suri almost blushed as richly as her  _ vallaslin _ . Sunny was cackling behind her. “Of course!” she replied airily. “We can talk more later.” She watched the two Wardens practically race each other to the main keep. “C’mon, Sunny, let’s get this horse to Dennet.” As both Lavellan sisters brushed down the horse in the stables, Suri caught her sister shooting her an odd look. “What, Sunny?”

“What’s that face?” she asked, flicking a few horse hairs in her direction with the brush. “You look weird.”

“Thanks,” she replied with a face. She sighed and voiced what she had been thinking before. “We’re Dalish, sister. I’ve had to fight with that fact my entire time here.” She spat out a phrase in elvhen. “Josephine mentioned something about the early correspondence with potential allies in the beginning. She wouldn’t let me see them, but Leliana would.” She sighed and tucked a few escaped strands behind her ear. “Fighting for our culture...it’s not something I ever saw doing. With force, for protection, sure, but with words? With cleverly placed letters and a stone just loose enough so that someone will slip? It’s hard, Sunny, harder than I ever let on to anyone.”

Sunny kept her eyes on the brush in her hand. “Thedas hasn’t fallen into  _ complete _ chaos, yet, sister,” she said carefully. She winked at her sister. “I think you’re doing just fine. You wrote to me about all the people you’d met, bled with, laughed with, trained with. Don’t forget they’re here because of you, Suri. They’re here  _ for _ you.”

Suri managed to smile. “I missed you, Sunny.”

Sunny stuck her tongue out. “I brought you a pretty sweet present, didn’t I? The bloody Hero of Ferelden!”

\---

Suri wouldn’t see Rose or Alistair the next two days. Every time she would think about where they could be, a light blush would run across her cheeks. Sunny was far less discreet about her thoughts, joking constantly about it whenever she spotted her sister in slight discomfort. In the meantime, Suri went around introducing her sister to everyone. She found particular joy in watching Sunny crush Solas’ hand with hers as they exchanged greetings. She  _ might _ have mentioned something beforehand. She almost laughed when she spotted a white thumbprint across the back of his hand during the short conversation they held.

Varric immediately started drilling Sunny for the “dark details” about Suri. Her face had lit up and she promised to tell him everything over a drink at the tavern, talking over Suri’s sounds of protest. “You two remind me of Hawke and his little brother,” he chuckled, his eyes somewhere faraway, somewhere brighter. “Keep her safe, Sunny.”

“Always have,” she replied, smiling warmly.

Dorian was in his usual, well-lighted spot in the library. He mentioned several times how they looked alike, both of them replying, “We know,” in a bored monotone. Vivienne surveyed Sunny up and down, noting only how her posture was “nearly perfect” before they held a brief conversation. Cassandra was busy in the yard with Cullen, so they didn’t bother either of them. They found Sera and Blackwall chatting idly in the tavern. Suri nearly snorted out loud when Sera made a vague pass at Sunny, though she seemed not to notice. Fighting against a blush for her sister, Suri steered them back downstairs

The Chargers  _ adored  _ Sunny. As soon as they figured out that Sunny was the more rambunctious of the two, chaos practically erupted. She figured it was better to let her sister have some fun and left to do some more work, promising that she would meet everyone else soon. Josephine had, within an hour of the two actually arriving, arranged a room for the younger Lavellan in the guest tower. Suri took Sunny’s things up there, thinking already that she was going to hear about how the room was too big or that the bed was too soft. Her sister was simply like that.

Finally alone in her room, she spread out her work in front of the fireplace, a throw blanket draped across her shoulders as she looked through it all. Letters from nobles, reports from each of her advisors, a reminder from Josephine that Suri had yet to turn in her own report, and several other important papers that made her head spin. She was glad she would have Sunny to talk to in elvhen. She missed her home tongue terribly, and being around so many people who didn’t speak it made it worse. 

Far past sunset, Suri wandered back to the Herald’s Rest to collect her sister. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she spotted her amidst the Chargers, squeezed tightly against one Cremisius Aclassi. It had been a while since she had seen her sister’s smile, much heard her laugh. A high and bright one, just like hers, just like their mother’s. Although she couldn’t recall her mother as clearly as she wished, she knew enough to tell that Sunny looked the most like her. She didn’t want to ruin her night.

“Josephine’s set you up in the guest tower, Sun,” she said over the clamor. “Hawke and the Wardens have the far rooms, and you’re next to Hawke. Your stuff’s already up there.”

“What, you’re not gonna show me?” she joked back.

She smiled at her little sister. “You’re having fun,” she said simply. “Good night,  _ da’len _ . Bull, please make sure she doesn’t get shitfaced.”

“No promises, boss!” the massive qunari replied, tipping a horn at her and seemingly winking. 

“Krem?”

“Gotcha, your worship,” the young man smirked, tossing a two-fingered salute her way.

\---

“Suri.”

“Hmm,” she responded blandly, quill scratching the parchment in front of her. 

“Suri,” Cullen repeated more firmly. She cocked an ear to show she was listening. He sighed. “Come here, Maker’s breath. It’s late.”

“I need to finish this,” she murmured. There was a heavy silence that settled between them. After fully realizing what Cullen had asked her, she stopped writing. She closed her eyes and sighed, setting the quill down and standing up. “I’m sorry,  _ ma vhenan _ ,” she said, curling up at his side. “It’s been a long day.”

“All the more reason you should get some rest,” he said, kissing her hair.

She sat up suddenly on her knees, facing him. “I’m doing alright, right?” she blurted out. “I mean...Elgar’nan, as Inquisitor? I do my best, but is that enough? What if I’m focusing on the wrong things, and I mess something up…”

Cullen’s hand came up to cradle her cheek. She leaned into his touch, ears drooping slightly. “Love, I have never, in my life, seen someone work so hard and care so much as you do. Thedas doesn’t deserve you.” He chuckled. “I sure as hell know that I don’t, but you’ve chosen me anyway, Maker only knows why.”

“Because you’re the most handsome man this side of Thedas!” she declared, laughing. “You’re kind, compassionate, a great leader, the best commander, and about a dozen more things that I happen to love about you. Your Maker knows  _ that _ .”

He chuckled again. “Okay,” he breathed, pulling her closer to kiss her softly. “I love you.”

_ “Ar lath ma, vhenan.” _


End file.
